Skip to main content

Full text of "Don Juan"

See other formats


Google 



This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 



ili-^lHrt .3c 



iMrvard College Xibraq? 




BOUGHT WITH MONEY 
RECEIVED FROM THE 
SALE OF DUPLICATES 



■ ■ , \- ■ 






< ) 






^ *:" 



* • • 



* \ 



I ■." .*«■ ' 



.-.I 



»!• 



A 



N JUAN 



// 



BT 



LORD BYRON 



A NEW EDITION. 



^^*^t^l^'^*0^^^t0*i^<0^^*^0^^^^^0^^^0^0^^*0^Ffm^^0*^*0 



DUkito Mt prqprlt «vM«imtmt^ diooe. 

H<»L 9piA.ad Ptmm. 

Doit fhon think, teanM tbon art rtitaoaa. there dwll be no more Cakea and Ale f 
I7 St. Anne; and Qlnger ahaU be hot rUie month, too^Aee^tA Night; or WTutt 



« ■ I 



BOSTON: \|ifilfcn'S LjI^S 
PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, AND CoQaNT, ^ 



1858. 



( 






^O 



NAY 221919' 



T 



DON JUAN. 



I^iffidle ett proprie communia dicere. 

IIoR. Epist. ad Pison. 

Poet thou think, became thon art virtnotM, there nhall he no more Cakes and Ale T 
— Yey, by SL Anne ; and Ginger ftliall be hot i' the mouth, too. — Twelfth 

> SUAICSPEARB. 



CONTENTS. 



DON Jt»Arr. Pao« 

Cuito I. ••• • •• S 

Canto IL . 59 

Canto in. . « 115 

Canto IV .147 

Canto V 177 

Canto VL ... 823 

Canto Vn. ... 8&5 

Canto Vm. S77 

Canto DC • • 313 

Canto X. m ^. •••• •• 835 

Canto XL . .* 357 

Canto XIL 381 

Canto Xm. 4(b 

Canto XIV. 435 

Canto XV. ... 461 

Canto XVI. .... 4»7 

ISI 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THE FIRST. 



I. 

I WANT a hero : — an uncommon want. 

When every year and month sends forth a new oncv 
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, 

The age discovers he is not the true one ; 
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt, 

I '11 therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan — 
We all have seen him, in the pantomime 
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time. 



n. 

Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke, 

Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe 

Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk, 

And fillM their sign-posts then, like Wellesley now ; 

Each in their turn like Banquo's monarclis stalk, 
Followers of fame, ** nine farrow " of that sow : 

France, too, had Buonaparte and Dumouricr 

Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier. 



III. 

Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau, 

Potion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette, 

Were French, and famous people, as we know ; 
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet, 

Joul>ert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau^ 
With many of the military set. 

Exceedingly remarkable at times, 

But not at all adapted to my rhymes. 



DON JUAN. CAMTO li 



IV. 



Nelson was once Britannia's god of war, 
And s^iA should be so, but the tide is tum'd ; 

There 'ti no more to be said of Trafalgar, 
T is with our hero quietly inurn'd ; 

Because the army 's grown more popular, 
At which the naval people are concern'd ; 

Besides, the prince is all for the land-servicey 

Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis. 

▼. 

Brave men were living before Agamemnon,* 
And since, exceeding valorous and sage, 

A good deal like him too, though quite the same noiM^ 
But then they shone not on the poet's page, 

And so have been forgotten : — I condemn noney 
But can't find any in the present age 

Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one) ; 

So, as I said, I '11 take my friend Don Juan. 

VI. 

Most epic poets plunge ^ in medias res " 

(Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road). 

And then your hero tells, whene'er you please, 
What went before — by way of episode, 

While seated aAer dinner at his ease. 
Beside his mistress in some sofl abode. 

Palace, or garden, paradise, or cavern. 

Which serves the happy couple for a tavern. 

vn. 

That is the usual method, but not mine^ 
My way is to begin with the beginning ; 

The regularity of my design 

Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning. 

And therefore I shall open with a line 

(Although it cost me half an hour in spinning^ 

Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, 
And also ofhia mother, if you 'd Tat\ieT. 



• t* 



Vixere Jonas ante Agttia6iaiMni<* ^w* — Hm«m» 



CAVTOL l>ON JUAN. 



vm* 



.in Seville was he bom, a pleasant city, 
Famous for oranges and women — he 

Who has not seen it will be much to pity, 
So says the proverb — and I quite agree ; 

Of all the Spanish towns is none more pretty, 
Cadiz perhaps — but that you soon may see : 

Don Juan's parents lived beside the river, 

A noble stream, and call'd the Guadalquivir. 



His father's name was J6se — Don, of course^ 
A true Hidalgo, free from every stain 

Of Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his source 
Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain ; 

A better cavalior ne'er mounted horse, 
Or, being mounted, o'er got down again, 

Than J6sc, who begot our hero, who 

Begot — but that 's to come — Well, to renew : 



His mother was a learned ladv, famed 

For every branch of every science known — 

In every Christian language ever named, 
Witli virtues equall'd by her wit alone 

She made the cleverest people quite ashamed, 
^nd even the good with inward envy groan, 

Findmg themselves so very much exceeded 

In their own way by all the things that she did. 



XI. 

Her memory was a mine : she knew by heart 
All Caldcron and greater part of Lop6, 

So that if any actor missM his part 

She could have served him for the prompter's copy ; 

For her Feinagle's were an useless art. 

And he himself obliged to shut up shop — he 

Could never make a memory so fine as 
That which adorn 'd the brain of Donna Inox, 



DON JVAir. GANVOi 



Her favourite science was the matheraatica], 
Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity^ 

Her wit (she sometimes tried at wit) was Attic aDt 
Her serious sayings darken'd to sublimity ; 

In short, in all things she was fairly what I call 
A prodigy — her morning dress was dimity, 

Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin. 

And other stufis, with which I won't stay puzzling. 



zm. 

She knew the Latin — that is, " the Lord's prayer,** 
And Greek — the alphabet — I 'm nearly sure ; 

She read some French romances here and there. 
Although her mode of speaking was not pure ; 

For native Spanish she had no great care. 
At least her conversation was ol»scure ; 

Her thoughts were theorems, lier words a problem. 

As if she deem'd that mystery would ennoble 'em. 



XIV. 

She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue. 
And said there was analogy between 'em ; 

She proved it somehow out of sacred song, 

But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen *em. 

But this I heard 'her say, and can't be wrong, 

And all may think Which way their judgments fean 'em, 

"'T is strange — the Hebrew noun which means M ao),* 

The English always use to govern d n." 



zv. 

Some women use their tongues — she hoVd a lecture. 
Each eye a sermon, and her brow a homily, 

An all-in-all-sufficient self-director, 

Like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romilly, 

The Law's expounder, and the State's corrector, 
Whose suicide was almost an anomaly — 

One sad example more that '* All is vanity ,** — 

(The jury brought their verdict in ^ Insanity,**) 



•ORG I. DOV TUAJK. 



XVI. 



In short, she was a walking calculation, 

Miss Edge worth's novels stepping from their cover% 
Or Mrs. Trimmer's books on education, 

Or " Ccelebs' Wife " set out in quest of lovers. 
Morality' s prim personification, 

in which notEnvy s self a flaw discovers ; 
To others' share let ** female errors fall," 
For she had not even one — the worst of all. 



xvn. 

Oh ! she was perfect past all parallel — 
Of any modem female saint's comparison ; 

So far above the cunning powers of hell, 

Her guardian angbl had given up his garrison ; 

Even her minutest motions went as well 

As those of the l)est time-piece made by Harrison : 

In virtiu's nothing eartlily could surpass her, 

Save thine " incomparable oil," Macassar !* 

xvni. 

Perfect she was, but as perfection is 
Insipid in this naughty world of ours, 

Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss 
rill they were exiled from their earlier bowers. 

Where all was peace, and innocence, and bliss 

(I wonder how they got through the twelve hoursj 

Don Jose, like a lineal son of Eve, 

Went plucking various fruit witiiout her leave. 



XIX. 

He was a mortal of the careless kind. 

With no great love for learning, or the learn'd 

Who chose to go wliere'er he had a mind. 
And never dream'd his lady was concern'd ; 

The world, as usual, wickedly inclined 
To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd, 

WhisperM he had a mistress, some said two. 

But for domestic quarrels one will do. 

• ** Description des verlu« inccmparabUt dc Thuile de Mutes' •.' — S^« the 
•dreftitement. 



DON JUAN* CiJffTOi 



N'ow Donna Inez had, with all her merit, • 
A great opinion of her own good qualities ; 

Neglect, indeed, requires a saint to bear it, 
And such, indeed, she was in her moralities ; 

But then she had a devil of a spirit, 

And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realitie% 

\nd let few opportunities escape 

Of getting her liege lord into a scrape. 



zxi* 

This was an easy matter with a man 

Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard ; 

And even the wisest, do the best they can, 

Have moments, hours, and days, so unprepared. 

That you might " brain them with their lady's fan ; * 
And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard. 

And fans turn into falchions in fair hands, 

And why and wherefore no one understands. 



xxn. 

"T is pity learned virgins ever wed 
With persons of no sort of education. 

Or gentlemen, who, though well born and bred. 
Grow tired of scientific conversation : 

I do n't choose to say much upon this head, 
I 'm a plain man, and in a single station. 

But — Oh ! ye lords of ladies intellectual, ** 

Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all T 



XXlll. 

Don J6se and his lady quarrell'd — wkp^ 
Not any of the many could divine. 

Though several thousand people chose to try, 
'T was surely no concern of theirs nor mine ; 

I loathe that low vice — curiosity ; 

But if there 's any thing in which I shine, 

*T is in arranging sJl my friends' afiairs. 

Not having, of my own, domestic cares. 



SAVMI. IKUr JVAR. . 9 



Aad so I interfered, and with the best 
Intentions, but their treatment was not 

I tiiink the foolish people were possen'd, 
For neither of them could I ever find, 

A. though their porter afterwards confessM—- 
But that 's no matter, and the worst 's behind. 

For little Juan o'er me threw, down stairs, 

A pail of housemaid's water unawares. 



A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing. 
And mischief-making monkey from his birth ; 

His parents ne'er agreed except in doting 
Upon the most unquiet imp on earth ; 

Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in 
Their senses, they 'd have sent young master forth 

To sctiool, or had him soundly whipp'd at home. 

To teach him manners for the time to come. 



XXVI. 

Don J6se and the Donna Inez led 

For some time an unhappy sort of life, 

Wishing each other, not divorced, but dead ; 
They lived respectably as man and wife, 

Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred. 
And gave no outward signs of inward strife, 

Until at length tlie smother'd fire broke out. 

And put the business past all kind of doubt. 



xxvn. 

For Inez call'd some druggists and physicians, 
And tried to prove her loving lord was madf 

But as he had some lucid intermissions, 
She next decided he was only bad; 

Yet when they ask'd her for iier dopositions. 
No sort of explanation could be had, 

Save that her duty both to man and God 

Required tliis conduct — which sceui'd very odd* 



10 



DON JUAN. CUnVfc 



She kept a journal, where his faults were noted. 
And open'd certain trunks of books and letter% 

All which might, if occasion served, be quoted ; 
And then she had all Seville for abettors. 

Besides her good old grandmother (who doted) ; 
The hearers of her case became repeaters. 

Then advocates, inquisitors, and judges, 

Some for amusement, others for old grudges* 



And then this best and meekest woman bore 
With such serenity her husband's woes. 

Just as the Spartan ladies did of yore. 

Who saw their spouses kili'd, and nobly chose 

Never to say a word about them more — 
Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, 

And saw his agonies with such sublimity. 

That all the world exclaim'd, " What magnanimity I ** 



xzx. 

No doubt this patience, when the world is damning na^ 

Is philosophic in our former friends ; 
'T is also pleasant to be dcem'd magnanimous. 

The more so in obtaining our own ends ; 
And what the lawyers call a.'*^tnalus animus** 

Conduct like this by no means comprehends : 
Revenge in person 's certainly no virtue. 
But then 't is not my fault, if others hurt you. 



xxn. 

And if our quarrels should np up old stories. 
And help them with a lie or two additional, 

I 'm not to blame, as you well know — no more is 
Any one else — they were become traditional ; 

Besides, their resurrection aids our glories 

By contrast, which is what we just were wishing aD 

And science profits by this resurrection — 

Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection. 



DON JUAN. 1) 



xxxn* 



Their friends had tried at reconciliation, 

Then their relations, who made matters worse. 

(*T were hard to tell upon a like occasion 
To whom it may be best to have recourse — 

I can 't say much for friend or yet relation) : 
The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, 

But scarce a fee was paid on either side 

Before, unluckily, Don J6se died. 



xxzin. 

He died : and most unluckily, because. 
According to all hints I could collect 

From counsel learned in those kinds of laws, 

(Although their talk 's obscure and circumspect) 

His death contrived to spoil a charming cause ; 
A thousand pities also with respect 

To pubhc lecling, which on this occasion 

Was manifested in a great sensation. 



XXXIV. 

But ah ! he died ; and buried with him lay 
The public feeling and the lawyers' fees : 

His house was sold, his servants sent away, 
A Jew took one of his two mistresses, 

A priest the other — :at least so they say : 
I ask'd the doctors after his disease — 

He died of tlie slow fever call'd the tertian. 

And left his widow to her own aversion. 



XXXV. 

Yet J6se was an honourable man, 

That I must say, who knew him very well ; 

Therefore his frailties I '11 no further scan, 
Indeed there were not many more to tell : 

And if his passions now and then outran 
Discretion, and were not so peaceable 

As Numa's (who was also named Pompilius), 

He had been ill brought up, and was born biV\ous« 



19 DON {VAlf. CAMfOI 



Whata'er might be his worthlessness or wortii, 
PooyMlow ! he had many things to wound bio^ 

Lit 's own — since it can do no good on earth — 
1|^ was a trying moment that which found him 

Standing alone beside his desolate hearth, 

Wliere all his household gods lay shiver'd round him^ 

No choice was left his feelings or his pride, 

Save death or Doctors' Commons — so he died« 



XXX vn. 

Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir 

To a chancery suit, and messuages, and landsy 
Which, with a long minority and care. 

Promised to turn out well in proper hands : 
Inex became sole guardian, which was fair. 

And answer'd but to nature's just demands ; 
An only son lefl with an only mother 
Is brought up much more wisely than another. 



Sagest of women, even of widows, slie 

Resolved that Juan should be quite a paragon. 

And worthy of the noblest pedigree, 

(His sire was of Castile, his dam from Aragon.) 

Then for accomplishments of chivalry, 

In case our lord the king should go to war again. 

He leam'd the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, 

And how to scale a fortress — or a nunnery. 



But that which Donna Inez most desired. 
And saw into herself each day before all 

The learned tutors whom for him she hired, 

Was, that his breeding should be strictly nM>ral i 

Much into all his studies she inquired. 

And so they were submitted first to her, all, 

Arts, sciences, no branch was made a mystery 

To Juan's eyes, excepting natural history. 



CANTO L DON JUAN. 1$ 

XL. 

The languages, especially the dead. 

The sciences, and most of all the abstruM^ 

The arts, at least all such as could be said 
To be the most remote from common use. 

In all these he was much and deeply read ; 
But not a page of any thing that 's loose. 

Or hints continuation of the species, 

Was ever suffer'd, lest he should grow vicioua. 

XLI. 

His classic studies made a little puzzle, 

Because of filthy loves of gods and goddes8e% 

Who in the earlier ages raised a bustle, 
But never put on pantaloons or bodices ; 

His reverend tutors had at times a tussle, 
And for their ^Eneids, Iliads, and Odysseys, 

Were forced to make an odd sort of apology, 

For Donna Inez dreaded the mythology. 

XLII. 

Ovid 's a rake, as half his verses show him ; 

Anacreon^s morals are a still worse sample ; 
Catullus scarcely has a decent poem; 

I do n't think Sappho's Ode a good example, 
Although Lon^inus * tolls us there is no hvrnn 

Where tiie sublime soars forth on wings more ample ; 
But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one 
Beginning with ^^ Formosum Pastor Cori/dunJ 



>» 



XLIII. 

Lucretius' irreligion is too strong 

For early stomachs,|Jo prove wholesome food; 

I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong, 
Although no doubt his real intent was good, 

For speaking out so plainly in his song, 
So much indeed as to be downright rude ; 

And then what proper person can l>e f)artial 

To all those nauseous epigrams of Martial ? 

* See LonginuB, Section 10, Ua fiit Ip n itepl air^v ir&Oos ^divi)Tai> tia^tAV Di 



14 DON JUAN. 



XLIV. 

Juan was taught from out the best edition^ 
Expurgated by learned men, who place. 

Judiciously, from out the schoolboy's vision^ 
The grosser parts ; but fearful to deface 

Too much their modest bard by this omission. 
And pitying sore his mutilated case. 

They only add them all in an appendix,* 

Which saves, in fact, the trouble of an index ; 

ZLV. 

For there we have them all " at one fell swoop,** 
Instead of being scatter'd through the pages; 

They stand forth marshall'd in a handsome troop^ 
To meet the ingenuous youth of future ages, 

Till some less rigid editor shall stoop 

To call them back into their separate cages. 

Instead of standing staring altogether, 

Like garden gods — and not so decent either. 

XLVI. 

The Missal too (it was the family Missal) 

Was ornamented in a sort of way 
Which ancient mass-books often are, and this all 

Kinds of grotesques illumined ; and how they, 
Who saw those figures on the margin kiss all. 

Could turn their optics to the text and pray, 
Is more than I know — but Don Juan's mother 
Kept this herself, and gave her son another. 

XLvn. 

Sermons he read, and lectures he endured, 
And homilies, and lives of aJJLthe saints; 

To Jerome and to Chrysostom inured. 

He did not take such studies for restraints ; 

But how faith is acquired, and then insured. 
So well not one of the aforesaid paints 

As Saint Augustine in his fine Confessions, 

Which make the reader envy his transgressions, 

* FVct! There is, or wbb, mich an edition, with all the obnoxioiu eiHgrtnit 
ofUmrtmlplBved by tbemwelveB tt the end. 



DON JUAN. 10 



ZLTIZK. 



This, tcM), was a seai'd book to little Juan — 
I can't but say that his mamma was right, 

If such an education was the true one. 

She scarcely trusted him from out her sight ; 

Her maids were old, and if she took a new one^ 
You might be sure she was a perfect fright. 

She did this during even her husband's life^ 

I recommend as much to every wife. 



« XLIX. 

Young Juan wax'd in goodliness and grace ; 

At six a charming child, and at eleven 
With all the promise of as fine a face 

As e'er to man's maturer growth was given : 
He studied steadily, and grew apace, 

And seein'd, at least, In the right road to heaven. 
For half his days were passM at church, the other 
Between his tutors, confessor, and mother. 



L. 

At six, I said, he was a charming child, 
At twelve he was a fine, but quiet boy ; 

Although in infancy a little wild, 

They tamed him down amon^rst them : to destroy 

Hia natural spirit not in vain they toil'd. 
At least it seemM so'; and his mother's joy 

Was to declare how sage, and still, and steady, 

Her young philosopher was grown already. 



LI. 

• 

I had mv doubts, perhaps I have them still. 
But what I say is neither here nor there; 

I knew his father well, and have some skill 
In character — hut it would not he fair 

From sire to son to augur good or ill : 

He and his wife were an ill-sorted pair — 

B\it scandal 's my aversion — I protest 

\gii\nst all evil speaking, even in jest. 



16 I>ON JUAK. 



UI 



CAHTO L 



For my part I say nothing — nothing — but 
This I will say — my reasons are my own — 

That if I had an only son to put 

To school (as God be praised that I have none)^ 

*T is not with Donna Inez I would shut 
Him up to learn his catechism alone. 

No — no — I M send him out betimes to college, 

For there it was I pick'd up ray own knowledge. 



Lin. • 

For there one learns — 't is not for me to boast, 
Though I acquired — but I pass over ihatj 

As well' as all the Greek I since have lost : 

I say that there 's the place — but " Verhum 9ai^ 

I think I pick'd up too, as well as most, 

Knowledge of matters — but no matter what — 

I never married — but, I think, I know 

That sons should not be educated so. 



LIV. 

Young Juan now was sixteen years of age, 

Tall, handsome, slender, but well knit : he seem'd 

Active, though not so sprightly, as a page ; 
And every body but his mother deem'd 

Him almost man ; but she flew in a rage 

And bit her lips (for else she might have scream'd) 

If any said so, for to be precocious 

Was in her eyes a thing the most atrocious. 



IT. Q 

Among her numerous acquaintance, all 
Selected for discretion and devotion, 
There was the Donna Julia, whom to call 
Pretty were but to give a feeble notion 
Of many charms in her as natural 
As sweetness to the flower, or salt to ocean^ 
Her zone to Venus, or his bow to Cupid, 
(But this Inst sinule i» trite and aftapid.") 



DON JUAN. 4" 



LVI. 



The daricness of her Oriental eye 
Accorded with her Moorish origin ; 

(Her blood was not all Spanish, by the by ; 
In Spain, you know, this is a sort of sin.) 

When proud Granada fell, and, forced to fly^ 
Boabdil wept, of Donna Julia's kin 

Some went to Africa, some stay'd in Spain, 

Her great great grandmamma chose to remain* 



Lvn. 

She married (I forget the pedigree) 

With an Hidalgo, who transmitted down 

His blood less noble than such blood should be ; 
At such alliances his sires would frown, 

[n that point so precise in each degree 

That they bred in and in, as might l^e shown. 

Marrying their cousins — nay, their aunts and niece^ 

Which always spoils the breed, if it increases. 



Lvin. 

This heathenish cross restored the breed again, 
Ruin'd its blood, but much improved its flesh ; 

For from a root the ugliest in Old Spain 
Sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh ; 

The sons no more were short, the daughters plain 
But there 's a rumour which I fain would liush, 

'T is said that Donna Julia's grandmamma 

Produced her Don more heirs at love than law. 



LIX. 

However this might be, the race wcnf on 

Improving still through every generation. 
Until it centred in an only son, 

Who left an onlv daufjhtor : mv narration 
May have suffcrcstofl that this single one 

Could be but Julia (whom on this occasion 
I shall have much to speak about), and she 
Was warned, charming, chasto, and twcutv-lYvteo. 



DON JUAN* GiMtOi 



LT. 



Her eyes (1 .'m very fond of handsome eyes) 
Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire 

Until she spoke, then through its soft disguise 
Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire. 

And love than either ; and there would arise 
A something in them which was not desire. 

But would have been, perhaps, but for the soul 

Which struggled through and chasten'd down the wholob 



LXI. 

Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow 

Bright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth : 

Her eyebrow's sliape was like th' aerial bow 
Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, 

Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow. 
As if her veins ran lightning ; she, in sooth, 

Possess'd an air and grace by no means common r 

Her stature tall — I hate a dumpy woman. 



Lxn. 

Wedded she was some years, and to a man 

Of fifty, and such husbands are in plenty ; 
And yet, I think, instead of such a one 

T were better to have two of five-and-twenty. 
Especially in countries near the sun : . »V 

And now I think on 't, "mi vien in mente," -» ' * 

Ladies even of the most uneasy virtue 
Prefer a spouse whose age is short of thirty. 



Lxin. 

T is a sad thing, I cannot choose but say, 
- And all the fault of that indecent sun, 
' Who cannot leave alone our helpless clajy/ 

But will keep baking, broiling, burning' on. 
That howsoever people fast and pray, . 

The Qeah m h&ilf and so the soul undone v 
What men cat gallantry, and gods aduWerf, 
ia much more common where the cViioate^ft «^\t5< 



CASTOl. 



DOn JUAN. 19 



Happy the nations of the moral North ! 

Where all is virtue, and the winter season 
Sends sin, without a rag on, shivering forth 

(H!* was snow that brought St. Anthony to reason) 
Where juries cast up what a wife is worth, 

By laying whate'er sum, in mulct, they please on 
The lover, who must pay a handsome price, 
Because it is a marketable vice. 



LXV. 

Alfonso was the name of Julia's lord, 

A man well looking for his years, and who 

Was neither much beloved nor vet abhorr'd : 
They lived toj^rothcr, as most people do, 

SiiiitTint' each other's foihles hv accord. 
And not exactly either one or two; 

Yet he was jealons, thoiijjh he did not show it. 

For jealousy dislikes the world to know it. 



LXVI. 

Julia was — yet I never could sec why — 
With Donna Inez quite a favourite friend ; 

Between their tastes there was small sympathy. 
For not a line had Julia ever pennM : 

Some people whisper (l)ut, no doubt, they lie, 
For malice still imputes some private end"^ 

That Inez had, ere Don Alfonso's marriage, 

Forgot with him licr very prudent carriage ; 



LXVII. 

And that still keepinjr up the old connection. 

Which time had lately rend(?rM much more chaste, 
She took his lady also in affection, 

And certainly this course was much the l>est : 
She flatter'd Julia with her sage protection, 
And complimented Don Alfonso's taste; 
And if she could not (who can ?) silenco 8canda\, 
At least she ha it a more siender handle. 



DON JUAN. CJLMTC fc 



LXYin. 



I can't tell whether Julia saw the afiair 
With other people's eves, or if her own 

Discoveries made, but none could be aware 
Of thisy at least no symptom e'er was shown ; 

Perhaps she did not know, or did not care, 
Indifierent from the first, or callous grown : 

I 'm really puzzled what to think or say, 

She kept her counsel in so close a way. 



I«XIX« 

Juan she saw, and, as a pretty child, 

Caress'd him often — such a thing might be 

Quite innocently done, and harmless styled, 
When she had twenty years, and thirteen he ; 

But I am not so sure I should have smiled 
When he was sixteen, Julia twenty-three ; 

These few short years make wondrous alterations. 

Particularly amongst sun-burnt nations. 



LXX. 

Whate'er the cause might be, they had become 

Changed ; for the dame grew distant, the youth shy. 

Their looks cast down, their greetings almost dumb. 
And much embarrassment in either eye ; 

There surely will be little doubt with some 
That Donna Julia knew the reason why, 

But as for Juan, he had no more notion 

Than he who never saw the sea of ocean* 



LXXI. 

Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind, 
And tremulously gentle her small hand 

Withdrew itself from his, but left behind 
A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland 

And slight, so very slight, that to the mind 

T was but a doubt ; but ne'er magician's wand 

Wrought change with all Armida's Cairy axV. 
Like what this light touch, left on Jxian'a YigaxU 



CA«rOL I>OTV atJAIf. ^1 



Lxzn. 

And if she met him, though she smiled no more. 
She lookM a sadness sweeter than her smile. 

As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store 
She must not own, but cherish'd more the while 

From that compression in its burning core ; 
Even innocence itself has many a wile, 

And will not dare to trust itself with truth, 

And love is taught hypocrisy from youth. 



Lxxm. 

But passion most dissembles, yet betrays 
Even by* its darkness ; as the blackest sky 

Foretells the heaviest tempest, it displays 

Its workings through the vainly-guarded eye. 

And in whatever aspect it arrays 
Itself, 't is still the same hypocrisy ; 

Coldness or anger, even disdain or hate, 

Are masks it often wears, and still too late. 



Lxxrv. 

Then there were sighs, the dee[>er for suppression, 
And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft. 

And burning blushes, though for no transgression, 
Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left 

All these are little preludes to possession, 
Of which young passion cannot be bereft. 

And merely tend to show how greatly love is 

Kmbarrass'd at first starting with a novice. 



LXXV 

Poor Julia's heart was in an awkward state ; 

She felt it going, and resolved to make 
The noblest efforts for herself and mate. 

For honour's, pride's, religion's, virtue's sake: 
Her resolutions were most truly great, 

And almost might have made a Tarquin qviako*. 
She pray 'd the Virfr'm Mary for her grace, 
A^ bewg the best judge of a lady's case. 



39 DON JUAN. 



041110 1. 



She vowM she never would see Juan more, 
And next day paid a visit to his mother, 

And look'd extremely at the opening door, 
Which, by the Virgin's grace, let in another ; 

Grateful she was, and yet a little sore — 
Again it opens, it can be no other, 

T is surely Juan now — No ! I 'm afraid 

That night the Virgin was no further pray'd. 



Lxxvn. 

She now determined that a virtuous woman 
Should rather face and overcome temptation, 

That fliglit was base and dastardly, and no man 
Should ever give her heart the least sensation ; 

That is to say, a thought beyoftd the common 
Preference, that we must feci upon occasion. 

For people who are pleasanter than others, 

But then they only seem so many brothers. 



Lxxvni. 

And even if by chance — and who can tell ? 

The devil 's so very sly — she should discover 
That all within was not so very well, 

And, if still free, that such or such a lover 
Might please perhaps, a virtuous wife can quell 

Such thoughts, and be the better when they 're OTer ; 
And if the man should ask, 't is but denial : 
I recommend young ladies to make trial. 



LXXIZ. 

And then there are such things as love divine. 
Bright and immaculate, unmix'd and pure, 

Sach as the angels think so very fine. 

And matrons, who would be no less secure, 

Platonic, perfect, ^ just such love as mine : " 
Thus Julia said — and thought so, to be sure ; 

And so I 'd have her think, were I the man 

On whom her reveries celestial ran. 



CAMTO I I>01¥ JtlAN. 



Such love is iunocent, and may exist 

Between young persons without any danger. 

A hand may first, and then a lip be kiss'd ; 
For my part, to such doings I 'm a stranger^ 

But hear these freedoms form the utmost list 
Of all o'er which such love may be a ranger : 

If people go beyond, 't is quite a crime, 

But not my fault — I tell them all in time. 



LXXXI. 

Love, then, but love within its proper limits. 
Was Julia's innocent determination 

In young Don Juan's favour, and to him its 
Exertion might be useful on occasion ; 

And, lighted at too pure a slirine to dim its 
Ethereal lustre, with wliat sweet persuasion 

He might l)e taught, by love and her together - 

I realiv do n't know what, nor Julia cither. 



LXXXII, 

Fraught with this fine intention, and well fenced 
In mail of proof — her purity of soul, 

She, for the future of her strength convinced, 
And that her honour was a rock, or mole, 

Exceeding sagely from that hour dispensed 
With anv kind of troublesome control ; 

But whether Julia to the task was equal 

Is that which must be mention'd in the sequel. 



Lxxxin. 

Her plan she deem'd both innocent and feasible, 
And, surely, with a stripling of sixteen 

Not scandal's fangs could ^x on much that *s scizable. 
Or if they did so, satisfied to mean 

Nothing but what was good, her breast was peaceable 
A quiet conscience makes one so serene ! 

Christians have burnt each other, qtiite persuaded 

That aJJ the Apostles would have done as U\ev \\\d. 



And if in (he mean Uino her luiaWnd ilitnl. 

But Ilcaveu forbid thai aiicb a thought shuiild c(4 

Her brain, though in a dream ! (and Ihi-n she High'^ 
Never could she Burvive tlial cummon losa ; 

Dul just suppose that mom<>nt should hatido, 
I only 83^ au|iposa it — inter nos. 

IThis flhould In enfrt now, for Julia thought 
n Frtncli, but then the rhynic would go for noagt 



I only sny suppose this supponilion ! 

Juan br^itig then grown u|i to mnn's estate 
Would fully suit a widow nf condition. 

Even seven Vnura hence it woulil not he too lal«i 
And in the interim (to pursue this vitnoo) 

The mischief, oHer nil, cnuld not bo gruat. 
For he would Iwirn the rudiments of loie, 
1 mean the se.raph way of those above. 



So miich for Julin. Now wd 'II turn In Juani 
Poor liUle fcUow! tie had no idea 



Of hh) o 

In Iwfings 'V' 
IIb puKirJed ovi i 

But not ne v 
Tlkiag quite in 
Which, with .ft 1. 



r hit the Irui- one ; 
, Midcn, _ 



1 alurming, 
grow cbanuing. 



Silom 

Hi 

Tor... 



DON* JUAN. 



'^Oh Love ! in such a wilderness as this, 

Where transport and security entwine, 
Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss, 

And here thou art a god indeed divine.'* 
The hard I quote from does not sine amiss,* 

With the exception of the second line. 
For that same twining <« transport and security" 
Are twisted to a phrue of some obscurity. 

TiTXTfX. 

The poet meant, no doubt, and thus appeals 

To the good sense and senses of mankind, 
The very thing which every body feels, 

As all have found on trial, or may find, 
That no one likes to be disturbed at meals 

Or love. — I won't say more about " entwined " 
Or " transport," as we knew all that before, 
And beg *' Security " will bolt the door. 

xc. 

Toung Juan wander'd by the glassy brooks, 

Thinking unutterable things ; he threw 
Himself at length within the leafy nooks 

Where the wild branch of the cork forest grew; 
There poets find materials for their books. 

And every now and then we read thcin through. 
So that their plan and prosody are eligible, 
Unless, like Wordsworth, they prove unintelligible. 

xci. 

He, Juan, (and not Wordsworth) so pursued 
His self-communion with his own high soul, 

Until his mighty heart, in its great mood, 
Had mitigated part, thougli not the whole 

Of its disease ; he did the best he could 
With things not very subject to control. 

And turn'd, without pcrceivinnj his condition, 

Like Coleridge, into a metaphysician. 

^^SeSm^L^"^^ ""^ W^omuifi'; (I flank) iho oponmg of Can\o \\.,\>^ 



DON JUAif* cuno 



zcn 



He thought about himsetfy and the whole earAt 
Of man the wonderful, and of the stars, 

And how the deuce they ever could have birth ; 
And then he thought of earthquakes, and of wai% 

How many miles the moon might have in girth. 
Of air-balloons, and of the many bars 

To perfect knowledge of the boundless skies ; — 

And then he thought of Donna Julia's eyes. 



ZCIII* 

In thoughts like these true wisdom may discern 
Longings sublime, and aspirations high, 

Which some are born with, but the most part learn 
To plague themselves withal, they know not why : 

nr was strange that one so young should thus concern 
His brain about the action of the sky ; 

If you think 't was philosophy that this did, 

I can't help thinking puberty assisted. 



xciv,. 

He pored upon the leaves, and on the flowers. 
And heard a voice in all the winds ; and then 

He thought of wood-nymphs and immortal bowers. 
And how the goddesses came down to men 

He miss'd the pathway, he forgot the hours. 
And when he look'd upon his watch again. 

He found how much old Time had been a winner « 

He also found that he had lost his dinner. 



xcv. 

Sometimes he turn'd to gaze upon his book, 
Boscan, or Garcilasso ; — by the wind 

Even as the page is rustled while we look. 
So by the poesy of his own mind 

Over the mystic leaf his soul was shook. 
As if 't were one whereon magicians bind 

JTwir speUSf and give them to lYie paoaing^ ^loSiA^ 
AccordJDg to some good old woman^a taX^. 



DOM JTAN. 



Hiua would he while his loaelj hours away 
Dissatisfied, nor knowing what he wanted ; 

Nor glowing roTcrie, nor poet's lay. 
Could yield his spirit tbal for which it paJ 

A bosom whereon he his head might lay, 
And hear the heart beat with the love it grant 

With •eeveral other things, which I forget. 

Or which, at least, t need not mention yet. 



Those lonely walks, and lengthening reverie^ 
Could not eECB[>e the gentle Julia's eyes ; 

She saw that Junn was not at his ease ; 

But that which chiefly may, and must surprise 

Is, that the Donna Inez did not tease 
Her only son with question or surmise ; 

Whether it was she did not see, or would not, 

Or, like all very clever people, could not. 



This may seem strange, but yet 't is very common ; 

For instance — gentlemen, whose ladies take 
Ijeave to o'eralcp the written rights of woman. 

And break the Which commandment is 't they breakt 

(I have forgot the number, and think no man 

Should rashly quote, for fear of a mislakc.) 
I say, when these same gentlemen are jealous, 
Tbey make some blunder, which their ladies tell us. 



A real hnsband always is suspicious. 

But still no less suspects in the wrong place, 

Jealous of some one who had no such wishes, 
Or pandering blindly to his own disgrace, 

By harbouring some dear friend extremely vicious ; 
The last indeed 'a infa/hbly the case : 

'-^ w&oa the apoaae and friend are gone off vYtoVV^i 
todm at their vice, and not hia folly. 



C'S DON JITAN* 



C 



GASfOI. 



Thus parents also are at times short-sighted ; 

Though watchful as the lynx, they ne'er diu>vv«n. 
The while the wicked world beholds delighted. 

Young Hopeful's mistress, or Miss Fanny's loYor 
Till some confounded escapade has blighted 

The plan of twenty years, and all is over , 
And then the mother cries, the father swears. 
And wonders why the devil he got heirs* 



CI. 

But Inez was so anxious, and so clear 

Of sight, that I must think on this occasion. 

She had some other motive much more near 
For leaving Juan to this new temptation ; 

But what that motive was, I sha' n't say here 
Perhaps to finish Juan's education. 

Perhaps to open Don Alfonso's eyes. 

In case he thought his wife too great a prize. 



en. 

It was upon a day, a summer's day ; — 

Summer 's indeed a very dangerous season, 

As so is spring about the end of May ; 

The sun, no doubt, is the prevailing reason ; 

But whatsoe'er the cause is, one may say. 

And stand convicted of more truth than treason. 

That there are months which nature grows more merry iMkf 

March has its hares, and May must have its heroine 



r was on a summer's day — the sixth of June :-^ 

I like to be particular in dates. 
Not only of the age, and year, but moon ; 

They are a sort of post-house, where the Fates 
Change horses, making history change its tune. 

Then spur away o'er empires and o'er states, 
Leaving at last not much besides chronology, 
Excepting the post^bits of theology. 




DON JDAJC. 



T' was OD the sixth of June, about the hour 
Of half-paat six — perimps still nearer seven— 

When Julin sate within as pretty a hower 
As e'er held houri in that heathenish heaven 

Described by Hnhoraet, imJ Anncreori Mnore, 
To whom the lyre and laurels have been given, 

With all the trophies of triumphant song — - 

He won them well, and tnay be wear them long > 



She >ate, but not alone ; I know not well 

How this same interview had taken place, 
And even if I knew, I should not tell — 

People should bold their tongues in any case; 
No matter how or why the thing befell. 

But there were she and Juan, face to face — 
When two such faces are so, 't would be wise. 
But very difficult, to shut their eyes. 



How beautiful she look'd ! her conscious heart 
Glow'd in her cheek, and yet she felt no wrong. 

Oh Love I how perfect is thy mystic art. 

Strengthen ins; the weak, mid trampling on the strong, 

How self-deceitful is the sagnst part 

Of mortals whom thy lure hath led along — 
' The precipice she stood on was immense, 

So was her creed in her own innocence. 



She thought of her own strength, and Juan's youth. 

And of the folly of all prudish fears, 
Victorious virtue, and domestic truth, 

And then of Don Alfonso's fifty years : 
I wish these last hnd not occurr'd, in sooth. 

Because that number rarely much endears. 
And through all climes, the snowy and the sunnyi 

iDda ill ID lore, whate'er it may in money. 



90 Don JUAN. GAKTOI. 



cvni. 



When people say, " I 've told yon fifty times,** 
They mean to scold, and very often do ; 

When poets say, " I Ve written ^y rhymes,** 

They make you dread that they '11 recite them too ; 

In gangs o^ fifty, thieves commit their crimes ; 
kiMiy love for love is rare, 't is true ; 

But then, no doubt, it equally as true is, 

A good deal may be bought for fifty Louis. 



cix. 

Julia had honour, virtue, truth, and love. 
For Don Alfonso ; and she inly swore. 

By all the vows below to powers above. 

She never would disgrace the ring she wore, 

Nor leave a wish which wisdom might reprove ; 
And while she ponder'd this, besides much more. 

One hand on Juan's camlessly was thrown, 

Quite by mistake — she thought it was her own ; 



ex. 

Unconsciously she lean'd upon the other. 

Which play'd within the tangles of her hair ; 

And to contend with thoughts she could not smother 
She secm'd, by the distraction of her air. 

T was surely very wrong in Juan's mother 
To leave together this imprudent pair, 

She who for many years had watch'd her son so — 

I 'm very certain mine would not have done so. 



CXI. 

The hand which still held Juan's, by degrees 

Gently, but palpably, confirm'd its grasp. 
As if it said, " Detain me, if you please ; " 

Yet there 's no doubt she only meant to clasp 
His fingers with a pure Platonic squeeze ; 

She would have shrunk as from a toad, or asp, 
Had she imagined ^ch a thing cou\d tov&ae 
A feeling dangerous to a prudent s^^ouae. 




I cannot know what Juan thought of this, 

But what he did, is much what you wouM do , 
Hia young Up thank'd it with a grateful k 
And then, aba^h'd at ite own joy, withd. 
la deep despair, lest he hod done amiss, 
^- Love is ao very timid when 't is new : 
She blush'd, and frown'd not, but aha aln — '' 
And held her tongue, ber voice waa grow 



"nie BUD Kt, uid up rose the yellow moon : 
"The devil 's in the moon for mischief; they 

Who cnli'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon 
Their nomenclature ; there is not a day. 

The longest, not the twenly.first of June, 
S>^s half the business in a wicked way 

On which three single hours of moonshine smile — 

And then she looks bo modest all tho while. 



There is a dangerous silence in that hour, 

A atillnesB, which leaves room for the full soul 

To open all itself, without the power 
or calling wholly back its self-control; 

The silver light which, hallowing tree and tower, 
Sheds beauty and deep softness o'er the whole, 

Breathes also to the heart, and o'er il throws 

A loving languor, which is not repose. 



And Juha sate with Juan, half embraced 

Kad half retiring from the glowing arm. 
Which trembled like the bosom where 't was placed ; 

Yet still she must have thought there was no harm. 
Or dse 'I were easy to withdraw her waist ; 

But then the sitaation had its charm, 

itbea God knowa what next — I can't Ep on\ 

mlmottMTTy that I e'er begun. 



DON JVAir* C4HV01 



GXYI. 



Oh Plato ! Plato ! you have paved the way. 
With your confounded fantasies, to more 

Immoral conduct by the fancied sway 

Your system feigns o'er the controulless core 

Of human hearts, than all the long array 
Of poets and romancers : — You 're a bore^ 

A charlatan, a coxcomb — and have been, 

At best, no better than a go-between. 



cxvn. 

And Julia's voice was lost, except in sighs. 
Until too late for useful conversation ; 

The tears were gushing from her gentle eyes, 
I wish, indeed, they had not had occasion, 

But who, alas! can love, and then be wise? 
Not that remorse did not oppose temptation, 

A little still she strove, and much repented. 

And whispering ^ I will ne'er consent "— consented^ 



cxvni. 

T is said that Xerxes offer'd a reward 

To those who could invent him a new pleasure 

Methinks, the requisition 's rather hard. 
And must have cost his majesty a treasure: 

For my part, I 'm a moderate-minded bard. 
Fond of a little love (which 1 call leisure) ; 

I care not for new pleasures, as the old 

Are quite enough for me, so they but hold. 



cxix. 

Ah Pleasure ! you are indeed a pleasant thine;. 
Although one must be damn'd for you, no doubt | 

I make a resolution every spring 

Of reformation, ere the year run out. 

But somehow, this my vestal vow takes wing. 
Yet still, I trust, it may be kept throughout : 

I 'm very sorry, very much ashamed. 

And mean, next winter, to be quite reclaim'd 




Here my chaste >fuse a liberty tnuat take — 
Start not ! still choaler reader, — ebe '11 be 

Forward, a.ad there is no great cause to quake 
This liberty iH a poetic liccase. 

Which some irregularity may make 

In the design, and as I have a high seoso 

or Aristolic and the Rules, 't is dt 

Tu beg his pardon when 1 err a bit. 



"Rui Itcenw w to hope die reader will 
Suf^Kwe from Jane the sixth (the fatal 6xy, 

Withont whose epoch my poetic skill 

For want of facta would all be thrown away) 

But keeping Julia and Don Juan still 

In sight, that several months have pass'd ; we '11 say 

T was in November, but I 'm not so sure 

^bout the day — the era 's more obscure. 



We II talk of that anon. — T is sweet to hear 
At midnight on the blue and moonlit deep 

The aong and oar of Adria'a gondolier. 

By distance mellow'd, o'er the waters sweep ; 

T is sweet to see the evening star appear; 
T is sweet to listen as the night-winds creep 

Prom leaf to leaf; 't is sweet to view on high 

The rainbow, baaed on ocean, span the sky. 



*r is sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest hark 

Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home , 

T b sweet to know there is an eye will mark 
Our coming, and look brighter when we coniej 

T is sweet to be awaken'd by the lark. 
Or lull'd by falling waters ; sweet the hum 

Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds, 

Tbo liap of children, and their earliest woido. 



t4 DON JUAir. 



\ 



Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapei 
In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth 

Purple and gushing ; sweet are our escapes 
From civic revelry to rural mirth ; 

Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps, 
Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth. 

Sweet is revenge — especially to women. 

Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen. 



Sweet is a legacy ; and passing sweet 

The unexpected death of some old lady 
Or gentleman of seventy years complete. 

Who Ve made " us youth " wait too — too long already 
For an estate, or cash, or country-seat, 

Still breaking, but with stamina so steady. 
That all the Israelites are fit to mob its 
Next owner for their double-damn'd post-obits* 



CXXVI. 

T is sweet to win, no matter how, one's laurels, 
By blood or ink ; 't is sweet to put an end 

To strife ; 't is sometimes sweet to have our quarrel 
Particularly with a tiresome friend ; 

Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels ; 
Dear is the helpless creature we defend 

Against the world ; and dear the schoolboy spot 

We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot 



But sweeter still than this, than these, than aH, 
Is first and passionate love — it stands alonoy 

Like Adam's recollection of his fall ; 

The tree of knowledge has been pluck'd 7— all 's known -« 

And life yields nothing further to recalP 
Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown. 

No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven 

Fire which Prometheus filch'd for us from heaven* 




DDK avxs. 



Han 's a strange animnt, and makes strange i 
Of hia own nature, and tho various arts, 

And likes particularly to produce 

Some new experiment to show hifi parts ; 

This is the age of oddities let loose. 

Where diflurenl talents find tlieir difiereni 

Tou 'd best begin with truth, and when yo' 

Labour, there 's a sure market for inpostur 



What opposite diBcoTeriea we have seen 1 
(Signs of (rue genius, and of empty pocketa.) 

One makes new noses, one a guillotine, 

One breaks your bones, one sets them in their sockets ; 

But vaccination certainly has been 

A kind antithesia to Congreve's rockets. 



Bread has been made (indifTerent) from potatoes; 

And galvanism has set some corpaes grinning, 
But has not answer'd like the apparatus 

Of the Humane Society's beginning, 
By which men are unsufTocated gratis ; 

What wondrous new machines have late been spinning 



86 DON lUAir. 



czxxn. 



This is the patent-age of new inventions 
For killing bodies, and for saving souls. 

All propagated with the best intentions ; 

Sir Humphry Davy's lantern, by which coalfl 

Are safely mined for in the mode he mentions ; 
Torabuctoo travels, voyages to the Poles, 

Are ways to benefit mankind, as true. 

Perhaps, as footing them at Waterloo. 



CXXTTTT. 

Man 's a phenomenon, one knows not what, 
And wonderful bevond all wondrous measure ; 

rr is pity though, in this sublime world, that 

Pleasure 's a sin, and sometimes sin 's a pleasure ; 

Few mortals know what end they would be at, 
Kut whether glory, power, or love, or treasure, 

The path is through perplexing ways, and when 

The goal is gain'd, we die, you know — and then 



CXXXIY. 

What then ? — I do not know, no more do you — 
And so good night. — Return we to our story : 

*T was in November, when fine days are few, 
And the far mountains wax a little hoary. 

And clap a white cape on their mantles blue ; 
And the sea dashes round the promontory. 

And the loud breaker boils against the rock. 

And sober suns must set at five o'clock. 



cxxxy. 

rr was, as the watchmen say, a cloudy night ; 
No moon, no stars, the wind was low or loud 
By gusts, and many a sparkling hearth was bright 

With the piled wood, round which the family crowd , 
There 's something cheerful in that sort of light, 
Even as a summer's sky 's without a cloud : 
/ 'hi food of fire, and crickets, and a\\ W\a.t, 
A hhstcr iffiiJad, and chuiiipiignc, and cVmiX. 



DON JUAN. 87 



cxzzn. 

T was nudnight — Donna Julia was in bed, 
Sleeping, most probably, — when at her door 

Arose a clatter might awake the dead, 
If they had never been awoke before, 

And that they have been so we fdl have read, 
And are to be so, at the least, once more ; — 

The door was fasten'd, but with voice and fist 

First knocks were heard, then '' Madam — Madam — hist ! 



cxxzTn* 

** For God's sake. Madam — Madam — here 's my master, 
With more than half the city at his back •— > 

Was ever heard of such a curs'd disaster ? 
T is not my fault — I kept good watch — Alack ! 

Do pray undo the bolt a little faster — 
Tiiey Ve on the stair just now, and in a crack 

Will all be here ; perhaps he yet may fly — 

Surely the window 's not so very high ! " 



CXXXVIII. 

By this time Don Alfonso was arrived, 

With torches, friends, and servants in great number ; 
Tlie major part of them had long been wived. 

And therefore paused not to disturb the slumber 
Of any wicked woman, who contrived 

By stealth hor husband's temples to encumber : 
Examples of this kind arc so contagious. 
Were one not punished, all would be outrageous. 

CXXXIX. 

1 can t tell how, or why, or what suspicion 

Could enter into Don Alfonso's head ; 
But for a cavalier of his condition 

It surely was exceedingly ill-bred, 
Without a word of previous admonition, 

To hold a }evee round his Jadv's bed, 
And summon lackeys, arin'd with fire and sword, 
To prove hiinscir the thing ho moat abhorrM. 



88 DON JUAir. 



Poor Donna Julia ! starting as fit>in deep, 

(Mind — that I do not say — she had not slept) 

Began at once to scream, and yawn, and weep ; 
Her maid Antonia, who was an adept. 

Contrived to fling the bed-clothes in a heap. 
As if she had just now from out them crept : 

I can't tell why she should take all this trouble 

To prove her mistress had been sleeping double* 



CXLI. 

But Julia mistress, and Antonia maid, 

Appear'd like two poor harmless women, who 

Of goblins, but still more of men, afraid, 

Had thought one man might be deterr'd by two, 

And therefore side by side were gently laid. 
Until the hours of absence should run through. 

And truant husband should return, and say, 

** My dear, I was the first who came away/ 



19 



CXIJI* 

Now Julia found at length a voice, and cried, 

** In Heaven's name, Don Alfonso, what d' ye mean ? 

Has madness seized you ? would that I had died 
Ere such a monster's victim I had been ! 

Whiit may this midnight violence betide, 
A sudden fit of drunkenness or spleen ? 

Dare you suspect me, whom the thought would kill t 

Search, then, the room ! " — Alfonso said, ''I will." 



cxLin. 

He search'd, they search'd, and rummaged every whore, 

Closet and clothes'press, chest and window-seat, 
And found much linen, lace, and several pair 

Of stockings, slippers, brushes, combs, complete. 
With other articles of ladies fair. 

To keep them beautiful, or leave them neat : 
Arras they pricked and curtains witYi 1W\t vwot^ 
And wouoded eeveral sbuttera, and somx^ Vmax^a* 



CtfflOL 



Doir JUAif. M 



CZLIY. 



Under the bed they search'd, and there they found— 
No matter what — it was not that they sought ; 

They open'd windows, gazing if the ground 

Had signs or foot-marks, but the earth said nought ; 

And then they stared each others' faces round : 
T is odd, not one of all these seekers thought, 

And seems to me ahnost a sort of blunder. 

Of looking in the bed as well as under* 



CXLT. 

During this inquisition, Julia's tongue 

Was not asleep — '* Yes, search and search,'* she cried 
^ Insult on insult heap, and wrong on wrong ! 

It was for this that 1 became a bride! 
For this in silonce I have sutier'd long 

A imsband like Alfonso at my side ; 
But now I '11 bear no more, nor here remain. 
If there be law, or lawyers, in all Spain. 



CXLVI. 

** Ves, Don Alfonso ! husband now no more, 
If ever vou indeed deserved the name, 

Is 't worthy of your years ? — you have threescore 
Fifty, or sixty, it is all tiie same — 

Is 't wise or luting, causeless to explore 

For facts against a virtuous woman's fame? 

Ungrateful, perjured, barbarous Don Alfonso, 

How dare you think your lady would go on so? 



CXLVII. 

•*I8 it for this I have disdain'd to hold 
The :omnion privileges of my sex ? 
That I have chosen a confessor so old 

And deaf, that any other it would vex, 
And never once he has had cause to scold, 

But found my very innocence perplex 
So much, he always doubtvd I was married — 
Bow sorry you will be wiien I've miscarried \ 



40 DON JXTAlf. 



GxiiVin. 



CAMIO I 



•* Was it for this that no Cortejo e*er 
I yet have chosen from out the youth of Seyille t 

Is it for this I scarce went any where, 

Except to bull-iights, mass, play, rout, and revel t 

Is it for this, whate'er my suitors were, 

I favour'd none — nav, was almost uncivil? 

Is it for this that General Count O'Reillv, 

Who took Algiers, declares I used him vilely t* 

CXLXIX. 

^ Did not the Italian Musico Cazzani 

Sing at my heart six months at least in vain t 

Did not his countrj'man. Count Corniani, 
Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain? 

Were there not also Russians, English, many ? 
The Count Strongstroganoffl put in pain. 

And Lord Mount ColFcehouse, the Irish peer. 

Who kill'd himself for love (with wine) last year. 

CL. 

" Have I not had two bishops at my feet. 

The Duke of Ichar, and Don Fernan Nunez ? 

And is it thus a faithful wife you treat ? 

I wonder in what quarter now the moon is : 

I praise your vast forbearance not to l)eat 
Me also, since the time so opportune is — 

Oil, valiant man ! with sword drawn and cock'd trigger. 

Now, tell me, do n't you cut a pretty figure ? 

CLI. 

" Was it for this you took your sudden journey, 
Under pretence of business indispensable 

With that sublime of rascals, your attorney. 

Whom I see standing there, and looking sensible 

Of having play'd the fool ? though both I spurn, he 
Deserves the worst, his conduct 's less defensible. 

Because, no doubt, 't was for his dirty fee, 

And not for any love to you or me. 

* Donna. Julia hen made a mistake. Count 0*B«iSkY d\^is(A \«kA KV|^t« — • 
ifat AJgien very oearijr took him ; he and bis txTmy an^ f^««t t^u^oauM. ^f«]k 
#»»•/ laaa, and not much credit, from be&ne that oxy , Vn the i«ax Yn?>. 



cuno L DON JUAir. 41 



GUI. 

^ If he comes here to take a deposition. 
By all means let the gentleman proceed ; 

YoM 've made the apartment in a fit condition : •— > 
There 's pen and ink for you, sir, when you need — 

Let every thing he noted with precision, 

I would not you for nothing should be fee'd — 

But, as my maid 's undress'd, pray turn your spies out. 

^^ Oh ! " sobb'd Antonia, *' I could tear their eyes out.'' 



CLIU 

"There is the closet, there the toilet, there 
The antechamber — search them under, over; 

There is the sofa, there the great arm-chair. 

The chimney — which would really hold a lover. 

I wish to sleep, and hog you will take care 
And make no further noise, till you discover 

The secret cavern of this lurking treasure — 

And when 't is found, let me, too, have that pleasure. 



CLIV. 

•* And now, Hidalgo ! now that you have thrown 

Doubt upon me, confusion over all, 
Prav have the courtesy to make it known 

Who is the man you search for ? how d' ye call 
Him? what 's liis lineage? let him but be shown — 

I hope he 's young and handsome — is he tall T 
Tell me — and be assured, that since you stain 
My honour thus, it shall not be in vain. 



CLV. 

"At least, perhaps, he has not sixty years. 
At that age he would be too old for slaughter, 

Or for so young a husband's jealous fears — 
(Antonia \ let me have a glass of water.) 

I am ashamed of having shed these tears, 

They are unworthy of my father's daughter; 

My mother dreamed not in my natal hour 
nai I should fall into a monster's power. 



43 DON JUAN. 



CLVI. 



CAMTr 



* Perhaps 't is of Antonia you are jealous, 
You saw that she was sleeping by my- side 

When you broke in upon us with your fellows : 

Look where you pli^ase — we 've nothing, sir, to hide 

Only another time, I trust, you 'II tell us. 
Or for the sake of decency abide 

A moment at the door, that we may be 

Dress'd to receive so much good company. 



cLvn. 

** And now, sir, I have done, and say no more ; 

The little I have said may serve to show 
The guileless heart in silence may grieve o*er 

The wrongs to whose exposure it is slow : — 
I leave you to your conscience as before, 

'T will one day ask you why you used me so T 
God grant you feel not then the bitterest grief! - 
4ntonia ! where 's my pocket-handkerchief? " 



CLvm. 

She ceased, and turn'd upon her pillow ; pale 

She lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears, 

Like skies that rain and lighten ; as a veil. 

Waved and o'ershading her wan cheek, appears 

Her streaming hair; the black curls strive, but fail, 
To hide the glossy shoulder, whi( h uprears 

Its snow through all ; — her soft lips lie apart. 

And louder than her breathing beats her heart* 



CLIX. 

The Senhor Don Alfonso stood confused ; 

Antonia bustled round the ransack'd room. 
And, turning up her nose, with looks abused 
Her master, and his myrmidons, of whom 
Not one, except the attorney, was amused ; 

He, like Achates, faithful to the tomb. 
So there were quarrels, cared not foT iVie caxun. 
Knowing they must be settled by lYie \iiw%. 



CM91QL 



DON JUAN. 4d 



CLZ« 



With prying snub-nose, and small eyes, he stood. 
Following Antonia's motions here and there. 

With much suspicion in his attitude ; 
For reputations he had little care ; 

So that a suit or action were made good, 
Sm^U pity had he for the young and fair. 

And ne'er believ'd in negatives, till these 

Were proved by competent false witnesses. 



CLXI. 

But Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks, 
And, truth to say, he made a foolish figure ; 

When, after searching in five hundred nooks. 
And treating a young wife with so much rigour, 

He gain'd no point, except some scll-rel)iikes, 
Added to those his lady with such vigour 

Had pour'd upon him for the last half-hour. 

Quick, thick, and heavy — as a thunder-shower. 



CLxn. 

At first he tried to hammer an excuse, 

To which the sole reply was tears, and sobs. 

And indications of hysterics, whose 

Proloaue is always certain throes and throbs. 

Gasps, and whatever else the owners choose : 
Alfonso saw his wife, and thought of Job's; 

He saw too, in perspective, her relations, 

And then he tried to muster all his patience. 



CLXIU. 

He stood in act to speak, or rather stammer. 
But sage Antonia cut him short before 

The anvil of his speech received the hammer. 

With " Prav, sir, hsive the room, and say no more. 

Or madam dies." — Alfonso mutter'd, "D — n her," 
But nothing else, the time of words was o'eT% 

He cast a rueful look or two, and did, 
ffe knew not whore fore, that which he waa Vvi, 



44 DON JUAN. 



CLXIV 



n 



With him retired his *' posse comiiatuSf^ 

The attorney last, who liDger'd near the doory 

Reluctantly, still tarrying there as late as 
Antonia let him — not a little sore 

At this most strange and unexplained ^ hiatus^ 
In Don Alfonso's facts, wliich just now wore 

An awkward look ; as he revolved the case. 

The door was fasten'd in his legal face. 



CLXV. 

No sooner was it bolted, than — Oh shame ! 

Oh sin ! Oh sorrow ! and Oh womankind ! 
How can you do such things and keep your famoy 

Unless tliis world, and t' other too, be blind ? 
Nothing so dear as an unfilch'd good name ! 

But to proceed — for there is more behind : 
With much heartfelt reluctance be it said. 
Young Juan slipp'd, half-smother'd, from the bed. 



CLXVI. 

He had been hid — I do n't pretend to say 
How, nor can I indeed descril>e the where — 

Young, slender, and packM easily, he lay. 

No doubt, in little compass, round or square, 

But pity him I neither must nor may 
His suflbcation by that pretty pair ; 

nr were better, sure, to die so, than be shut 

With maudlin Clarence in his Malmsey butt. 



CLZVU. 

And, secondly, I pity not, because 
He had no business to commit a sin, 

Forbid by heavenly, ftned by human laws. 
At least 't was rather early to begin ; 

But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws 
So much as when we call our old debts in 

At sixty yearSf and draw the accounta of ^^lil. 
And €nd a deuced balance with the deViL 



UMT3I. DON JUAK* 4^ 



CLXVIU* 

Of his position I can give no notion : 
T is written in the Hebrew Chronicle, 

How the physicians, leaving pill and portion, 
Prescribed, by way of blister, a young belle, 

When old Eang David's blood grew dull in motioOi 
And that the medicine answer'd very well ; 

Perhaps 't was in a difierent way 'applied. 

For David lived, but Juan nearly died. 



CLXIX. 

What 's to be done? Alfonso will be back 
The moment he has sent his fools away. 

Antonia's skill was put upon the rack, 

But no device could be brought into play-— 

And how to parry the renew'd attack ? 
Besides, it wanted but few hours of day : 

Antonia puzzled ; Julia did not speak, 

But press'd her bloodless lip to Juan's cheek. 



CLXX. 

He tum'd his lip to hers, and with his hand 
Call'd back the tangles of her wandering hair ; 

Even then their love they could not all command, 
And half forgot their danger and despair : 

Antonia's patience now was at a stand — 

" Come, come, 't is no time now for fooling there,' 

She whisper'd, in great wrath — " I must deposit 

This pretty gentleman within the closet : 



CLXXI. 

•* Pray, keep your nonsense for some luckier night — 
Wlio can have put my master in this mood? 

What will become on 't ? — I 'm in such a fright. 
The devil 's in the urchin, and no good — 

Is this a time for giggling? this a plight ? 

Why, do n't you know that it may end in blood t 

You 'JI lose your life, and I shall lose my \^\ace. 
My mistress all, for that half-girlish luce. 



40 Don iTAir* cAinoa 



ofiTxn« 

* Had it but been for a stout cavalier 
Of twenty-five or thirty- — (Come, make kaate) 

But for a child, what piece of work is here ! 
1 reallv, madam, wonder at vour taste — 

(Come, sir, get in) — my master must be near: 
There, for the present, at the least, he 's fast. 

And if we can but till the morning keep 

Our counsel — (Juan, mind, you must not sleep).* 



CLXxin. 

Now, Don Alfonso entering, but alone. 
Closed the oration of the trusty maid : 

She loiter'd, and he told her to be gone, 
An order somewhat siillenlv obev'd ; 

However, present remody was none, 

And no great good seem'd answer'd if she staid 

Regarding both with slow and sidelong view, 

She suujf'd the candle, curtsied, and withdrew. 



CLXXIV. 

Alfonso paused a minute — then begun 

Some strange excuses for his late proceeding ; 

He would not justify what he had done. 

To say the best, it was extreme ill-breeding ; 

But there were ample reasons for it, none 
Of which he specified in this his pleading: 

His speech was a fine sample, on the whole, 

Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call " rigmarole," 



CLXZV. 

Julia said nought ; though all the while there rose 
A ready answer, which at once enables 

A matron, who her husband's foible knows. 
By a few timely words to turn the tables, 

Which, if it does not silence, still must pose. 
Even if it should comprise a pack of fables ; 

^is to retort with firmness, and w\\enViQ 
Suspects with oncj do you repToacb vrith t)iree« 



CMMtOim 



DON jUAir* 47 



cubivi. 



Julia, in fact, had tolerable grounds, — 

Alfonso's loves with Inez were well known ; 

But whether 't was that one's own guilt confounds 
But that can't be, as has been often shown ; 

A lady with apologies abounds ; — 

It might be that her silence sprang alone 

From delicacy to Don Juan's ear, 

To whom she knew his mother's fame was dear. 



CLX3|VII. 

There might be one more motive, which makes two ; 

Alfonso ne'er to Juan had alluded, — 
Mention'd his jealousy, but never who 

Had been the happy lover, he concluded, 
ConcealM amongst his premises ; 't is true, 

His mind the more o'er this its mystery brooded ; 
To speak of Inez now were, one may say, 
Like throwing Juan in Alfonso's way. 



CLXXVIII. 

A hint, in tender cases, is enough ; 

Silence is best, besides there is a i/ict — 
(That modern phrase appears to me sad stuff, 

Diit it will serve to keep my verse compact) — 
Wliich keeps, when push'd by questions rather rough, 

A lady always distant from the fact : 
The charming creatures lie with such a grace, 
There 's nothing so becoming to the face. 



CLXXIX. 

They blush, and we believe them ; at least I 
Have always done so ; 't is of no great use. 

In any case, attempting a reply. 

For then their eloquence grows quite profuse ; 

And when at length they 're out of breath, they sigh, 
And cast their languid eyes down, and \et \oo8fe 

A tear or two, and then we make it up •, 
And then — and then — and then — sit down aiv^Jl w\\»* 



49 DON JUAlf. 



CtfHOft 



Alfonso closed his speech, and hegg'd her pardon. 
Which Julia half withheld, and then half grantedi 

And Wd conditions, he thought, very hard on, 
DeL'ying several little things he wanted : 

He stovHl like Adam lingering near his garden. 
With useless penitence perplex'd and haimtedy 

Beseeching she no further would refuse. 

When, lo ! he stumbled o'er a pair of shoes. 



CLXXXI. 

A pair of shoes ! — what then ? not much, if thej 
Are such as fit with ladies' feet, but these 

(No one can tell how much I grieve to say^ 
Were masculine ; to see them, and to seize. 

Was but a moment's act. — Ah ! well-a-dav ! 
My teeth begin to chatter, my veins freeze — 

Alfonso first examined well their fashion. 

And then flew out into another passion. 



cLZXxn. 

He lefl the room for his relinquish 'd sword. 

And Julia instant to the closet flew. 
** Flv, Juan, fiv ! for Heaven's sake — not a word — 

The door is open — you may yet slip through 
The passage you so often have explored — 

Here is the garden-key — Fly — fly — Adieu ! 
Haste — haste ! I hear Alfonso's hurrying feet — 
Day has not broke — there 's no one in the street.' 



None can say that this was not good advice, 

The only mischief was, it came too late ; 
Of all experience 't is the usual price, 

A sort of income-tax laid on by fate : 
Jaan had rcach'd the room-door in a trice. 

And might have done so by the garden-gate, 
But met AJfonao in his dTC88ing-go^^% 
Who tbreaten^d death — so Juan knock'd Yivni ^oyfik. 



DON JVAH. 40 



cuajavm 



Dire was the scuffle, and out went the light ; 

Antonia cried out " Rape ! " and Julia " Fire ! ** 
But not a servant stinr'd to aid the fight. 

Alfonso, pommeird to his heart's desire, 
Swure lustily he 'd be revenged this night , 

And Juan, too, blasphemed an octave higher ; 
His blood was up : though young, he was a Tartar, 
And not at all disposed to prove a martyr. 



OLXZZY. 

Alfonso's sword had dropp'd ere he could draw it. 
And they continued battling hand to hand, 

For Juan very luckily ne'er saw it ; 

His temper not being under great command, 

If at that moment he had chanced to claw it, 
Alfonso's days had not been in the land 

Much longer. — Think of husbands', lovers' lives! 

And how ye may be doubly widows — wives! 



CLXXXVI. 

Alfonso grappled to detain the foe, 
And Juan throttled him to get away. 

And blood ('t was from the nose) began to flow ; 
At last, as they more faintly wrestling lay, 

Juan coivtrived to give an awkward blow, 
And then his only garment quite gave way ; 

He fled, like Joseph, leaving it ; but there, 

I doubt, all likeness ends between the pair. 



CLXXXVII. 

Lights came at length, and men, and maids, who found 
An awkward spectacle their eyes before ; 

Antonia in hysterics, Julia swoon'd, 

A.fonso leaning, breathless, by the door; 

Gome half-torn drapery scatter'd on the ground, 
Some blood, and several footsteps, but no more ; 

Juan the gate gain'd, turn'd the key about, 
Aarf Ukiag not the inside, lock'd the out. 



9ft DOW JUAlf. 



Here ends this canto. — Need I sing, or say. 
How Juan, naked, favour'd by the night, 

(Who favours what she should not,) found his way. 
And reach'd his home in an unseemly plight t 

The pleasant scandal which arose next day. 

The nine days' wonder which was brought to light. 

And how Alfonso sued for a divorce. 

Were in the English newspapers, of course. 



CLXXXIX. 

If you would like to see the whole proceedings, 
The depositions, and the cause at full, 

Tne names of all the witnesses, the pleadings 
Of counsel to nonsuit, or to annul. 

There's more than one edition, and the rcadinirs 
Are various, but they none of them are dull ; 

The best is that in short-hand, ta'en by Gurney, 

Who to Madrid on purpose made a journey. 



cxc. 



But Donna Inez, to divert the train 

Of one of the most circulating scandals 

That had for centuries been known in Spain, 
At least since the retirement of the Vandals, 

First vow'd (and never had she vow'd in vain) 
To Virgin Mary several pounds of candles ; 

And then, by the advice of some old ladies. 

She sent her son to be shipp'd off from Cadiz. 



CXCT. 

She had resolved that he should travel through 
All European climes, by land or sea, 

To mend his former morals, and get new, 
Especially in France and Italy, 

(At least this is the thing most people do.) 
Julia was sent into a convent : she 

Grieved, but, perhaps, her feeVinga may \» \ke\\«t 
Shown in the following copy of Vier l*U«t '. — 



C^WtOU DON JVAX 



CXCU. 



** They tell roe 't is decided ; you depart : 

Tis wise — 't is well, but not the less a paio ; 

I have DO further claim on your young heart. 
Mine is the victim, and would be again ; 

To love too much has been the only art 
I used ; — I write in haste, and if a stain 

Be on this sheet, 't is not what it appears ; 

My eyeballs burn and throb, but have no tears. 



cxcia. 

" I loved, I love you, for this love have lost 

State, station, heaven, mankind's, my own esteenOi 

And yet can not regret what it hath cost. 
So dear is still tlio incinory of liiat dream ; 

Yet, if I name my •luilt, 't is not to hoast, 

None can deem liarshlior of me than I deem : 

I trace tiiis scrawl because I cannot rest — 
I I *ve nothing to reproacli, or to recjuest 



cxciv. 

•* Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, 

'T is woman's whole existence ; man may range 

The court, camp, church, the v«^ss(^], and the mart, 
Sword, pown, ^,iun, jjhiry, otRr in exchange 

Pridf, fame, amhition, to till iij) his heart, 

And few there are whom these can not estrange; 

Men have all these resources, we but one, 

To love again, and be again undone. 



cxcv. 

** You will proceed in pleasure, and in pride, 

Beloved and loving many ; all is o'er 
For me on earth, except some years to hide 

My sliame and s<*rrovv deep in my heart's core ; 
These I could bear, but cannot cast aside 

The passion which still mgcin as before, — 
And so farewell — forgive me, love me — No, 
That word ia idle now — but iiii it go. 



DON JUAJf* OiSIOL 



czcyi* 



^ My breast has been all weakness, is so yet ; 

But still I think I can collect my mind ; 
My blood still rushes where my spirit 's set. 

As roll the waves before the settled wind ; 
My heart is feminine, nor can forget — 

To all, except one image, madly blind ; 
So shakes the needle, and so stands the pole. 
Ad vibrates my fond heart to my iix'd soul. 



cxcm. 

^ I have no more to say, but linger still, 
And dare not set my seal upon this sheet. 

And yet I may as well the ta>k fulfil. 

My misery can scarce be more complete : 

I had not lived till now, could sorrow kill ; 

Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet, 

And I must even survive this last adieu. 

And bear with Ufe, to love and pray for you ! 



»> 



» 



cxcvin. 

This note was written upon gilt-edged paper. 
With a neat Utile crow-quill, slight and new ; 

Her small white hand could hardly reach the taper« 
It trembled as maijnetic needles do, 

And yet she did not let one tear escape her; 
The seal a sun -flower ; " Elle txytis suit pearUntlf 

The motto, cut upon a white cornelian. 

The wax was superfine, its hue vermilion. 



cxcix. 

This was Don Juan's earliest scrape ; but whether 

I shall proceed with his adventures is 
Dependent on the public altogether; 

We '11 see, however, what they say to this, 
Their favour in an author's cap 's a feather. 

And no great mischief's done by their caprice; 
And if their approbation we expenencet 
Perhaps they *U have some more about a. ^eax \MSiiei^ 



DOH /UAXr. 51 



oo. 

My poem 's epic* and ia meant to be 

Divided in twelve books ; each book containing. 
With love, and war, a heavy gale at eea, 

A list of ships, and captains, and kings reigning. 
New characters ; the episodes are three : 

A panorainic view of hell 's in training. 
After the style of Virail and of Homer, 
So that my name of Epic 's no misnomer. 



cci. 

All these things will be specified in time, 
With strict regard to Aristotle's rules. 

The Vade Mecum of the true sublime, 

Whicli makes so many poets, and sonne fools : 

Prose poets like blank-verse, I 'in fond of rhyme, 
Good workmen never quarrel with their tools ; 

I \c got new mythological machinery, 

And very handsome supernatural scenery. 



ecu. 

There 's only one slight difference between 
Me and my epic brethren gone before, 

And here the advantage is my own, I ween ; 
(Not that I have not several merits more, 

But this will more peculiarly be seen ;) 
They so cmlK;llish, that 't is quite a bore 

Their labyrinth of fables to thread through. 

Whereas this story 's actually true. 



ccm. 

If any person doubt it, I appeal 
To history, tradition, and to facts, 

To newspapers, whose truth all know and feCL, 
To plays in five, and o|)cras in three acts ; 

All these confirm my statement a ^ood dral, 
But tliat which more completely faith exacts 

h that wyself, and several now in Sevi\k, 
Saw Jaan'a laat elopement with the devil 



M DON JUAM. 



ocnr. 



If ever I should condescend to prbse, 

I 11 write poetical commandments, which 

Shall supersede beyond all doubt all those 
That went before Jj in these I shall enrich 

My text with many Things that no one knows^ 
And carry precept to the highest pitch : 

I '11 call the work ** Longinus o'er a Bottle^ 

Or, Every Poet his aum Aristotle." 



ccv. 

Thou shalt believe in Milton, Dryden, Pope ; 

-^ Thou shalt not set up Wordsworth, Coleridge^ Soothej 

Because the first is crazed beyond all hope, 

The second drunk, the third so quaint and mouthy: 
With CrablK> it may be diilicult to cope. 

And Campbell's llippocrene is somewhat drouthy : 
•Thou shalt not steal from Samuel Rogers, nor 
Commit — flirtation with the muse of Moore. 



ccvi. 

Thou shalt not covet Mr. Sotheby's Muse, 
His Pegasus, nor any thing that 's his ; 

Thou shalt not bear false witness, like ** the Blues " 
(There 's one, at least, is very fond of this)*; 

Thou shalt not write, in short, but what I choose : 
This is true criticism, and you may kiss — 

Exactly as you please, or not, — the rod ; 

But if you don't, I '11 lay it on, by G— d ! 



ccvn. 

If any person should presume to assert 
This story is not moral, first, I pray, 
That they will not cry out before they 're hurt. 
Then that they '11 road it o'er again, and sa^ 
(But, doubtless, nobody will be so pert,) 

That this is not a moral tale, though gay ; 
BesideSf in Canto Twelfth, I mean to sVio^ 
The very place where wicked peopVe ^^^ 



«l|ROL WUr JVAVi 



IS after ally there ihould be soma to Mind 
To their own good this warning to deapiie^ 

Led by some tortuodty of mind. 
Not to believe my verae and their own eye% 

And cry that they '< the moral cannot find,'' 
I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies ; 

Should captains the remaiiK, or critics, make, 

They also lie too — under a mistake. 



The paUic approbation I expect, 

And beg they 11 take my word about the moral. 
Which I with their amusement will connect 

(So children cutting teeth receive a coral) ; 
Moantiiiio, they '11 doubtless plensc to recollect 

My epical pretensions to tlie laurel : 
For fear some prudish readers should grow skittish, 
I Ve bribed my graudniothur's review — the British. 



OCX. 

I sent it in a letter to the Editor, 
Who thank'd me duly by return of post — 

I 'm for a handsome article his creditor ; 
Yet, if my gentle Muse he please to roast. 

And break a promise after having made it her, 
Denying the receipt of what it cost, 

And smear his page with gall instead of honey. 

All I can say is — that ho had the money. 



ccxi. 

I think that with this holy new alliance 
I may ensure the public, and defy 

All other magazines of art or science. 
Daily, or monthly, or three monthly ; I 

Have not essny'd to multiply their clients, 
Because they tvW mc *t were in vain to try. 

And that the Edinburgh Review and QuarterVy 
Treat a dJasoDtiDg author very martyrly. 



50 D02C JUAlf • CAMIO ti 



CCZU. 



** Non ego hoeferrem calidajuoenid 

Conside Planco^^^ Horace said, and so 
Say I ; by which quotation there is meant a 

Hint that some six or seven good years ago . 
(Long ere I dreamt of dating trom the Brenta) 

I was most ready to return a blow, 
And would not brook at ail this sort of thing 
In my hot youth — when George the Third was King. 



CCXIII. 

But now at thirty years my hair is gray — 
(I wonder w^haf it will be like at fortv ? 

I thought of a peruke tlie other day — ) 

My heart is not much irreoner; and, in short, 1 

Have sqiiaiuIerM niv whole surmner while 't was May, 
And feel no more the spirit to retort ; I 

Have spent my life, l)oth interest and principal, 

And deem not, what 1 dcem'd, ui}- soul invincible. 



ccxiv. 

No more — no more — Oh ! never more on me 
The freshness of the heart can fall like dew, 

Which out of all the lovely things we seo 
Ext Pilots emotions hptintifid and new, 

Hived in our l)osoms like the bag o' the bee : 

Think'st thou the honey with those objects grew? 

Alas ! 't was not in them, but in thy power, 

To double even the sweetness of a flower. 



ccxv. 

No more — no more — Oh ! never more, my heart 

Canst thou be my sole world, my universe ! 
Once all in all, but now a thing apart. 

Thou canst not be mv blessinir or mv curse: 
The illusion 's gone for ever, and ihou art 
Insensible, I trust, but none the worse, 
And in thy stead I We got a deal of iud^mexiX, 
Though Hearen knows how it ever found a Xod^vtvcxil, 



CMHOL DOlf JITAH* OT 



CGZVX. 

My days of love are over ; me no more * 

The charms of maid, wife, and still less of widow. 

Can make the fool of which the)* made before, — 
In short, I must not lead the life I did do ; 

The credulous hope of mutual minds is o'er, 
The copious use of claret is forbid Coo, 

So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, 

I think I must take up with avarice. 

cxvn. 

Ambition was my idol, which was broken 
Before the shrines of Sorrow, and of Pleasure 

And the two last have lefl me many a token 
O'er which reflection may be made at leisure : 

Now, like Friar Bacon's brazen head, I 've spoken, 

" Time is, Time was, Time 's past : " — a chyniic treasure 

Is glitterinj^ youth, which I have s[)ent betimes — 

My heart in passion, and my liead on rhymes. 

CCXVIII. 

What is the end of fame ? 't is but to fill 

A certain portion of uncertain paper : 
Some liken it to climbing up a hill, 

Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour; 
For this men write, speak, preacii, and heroes kill, 

And bards burn what they call their ** midnight taper. 
To have, when the original is dust, 
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust. 



» 



CCXIX. 



What are the hopes of man ? Old Egypt's kmg 

Cheops erected the first pyramid 
And largest, thinking it was just the thing 

To keep liis memory whole, and mummy hid ; 
But somebody or other rummaging. 

Burglariously broke his coffirrs lid : 
Let not a monument give you or nie hopes. 
Since not a pinch of dust remains of Cheops. 

" Mo nnc fcDmina, nee piier 
JaWf nee spos nnimi credula mutui; 
Nee certarojuviit mero, 
Xec YiDcire novia tcmpora HoribuB.'* 



58 Don JUAN. OAMTOk 



CCZX. 

But I being fond of true philosophy, 

Say very often to myself, " Alas ! 

.All things that have been born were born to die, 

And flesh (which Death mows down to hay) *is gnuM ;^ 
You Ve passM your youth not so unpleasantly, 

And if you had it o'er again — 't would pass- 
So thank your stars that matters are no worse. 
And read your Bible, sir, and mind your purse." 



CCXXI. 

But for the pre,sent, gentle reader ! and 

Still gentler purchaser ! the bard — that 's I — 

Must, with permission, shake you by the hand. 
And so your humble servant, and good-b'ye ! 

We meet again, if wo should understand 
Each other ; and if not, I shall not try 

Your patience further than by this short sample — 

T were well if others followed my example. 



ccxxn. 

" Go, little book, from this my solitude ! 

I cast thee on the waters — fjo thv wavs ? 
And if, as I believe, thy vein Ik* good. 

The world will find thee after many davs.' 
When Southey 's read, and Wordsworth understood^ 

I can't help putting in my claim to praise — 
The four first rhymes are Southey's every line : 
For God's sake, reader ! take them not for mine 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THE SECOND. 



I. 



Ob ye ! who teach the ingenuous youth of natlono, 
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain, 

I pray ye flog Ihem upon all occasions, 

It mends their morals, nover mind the pain : 

The hf'st of inolhors and of educations 
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain, 

Since, in a way that 's rather ol' the oddest, he 

Became divested of his native modesty. 



II. 



Had he but l>ern placed at a public school, 
In tlie third form, or even in the fourth, 

His daily task harl kopt his fancy cool, 

At least, had he been nurtured in the north; 

Spain may prove an exception to the rule, 

But then exceptions always [)rove its worth — 

A lad of sixteen causing a divorce 

Puzzled his tutors very much, of course. 



III. 



I can't say that it piizzles me at all, 

If all things be consider'd : first, there was 
His lady-mother, mathematical, 

A never mind ; — his tutor, an old ass ; 

A pretty woman, — (that 's quite natural, 

Or else ihc thing had hardW conic to pass") 
A husband rather old, not nmc\\ in unity 
WiUi his young wife — a time, and opporlunUy- 



60 ]>01f JUAK. 



IV. 



CAMTOn 



Well — well, the world must turn upon its axis, 
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails. 

And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, 
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails ; 

The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us^ 
The priest instructs, and so our \i(e exhales, 

A Httle breath, love, wine, ambition, fame. 

Fighting, devotion, dust, — perhaps a name. 



V. 

I said, that Juan had been sent to Cadiz — 

A pretty town, I recollect it well — 
*T is there the mart of the colonial trade is, 

(Or was, l)efore Peru Icarn'd to rehcU) 
A.nd such sweet girls — 1 mean, such graceful ladies. 

Their very walk would make your bosom swell ; 
I can't describe it, though so much it strike, 
Nor liken it — I never saw the like : 



VI. 

An Arab horse, a stately stag, a barb 
New broke, a cameleopard, a gazelle. 

No — none of these will do ; — and then their garb ! 
Their veil and petticoat — Alas! to dwell 

Upon such things would very near absorb 

A canto — then their feet and ankles, — well. 

Thank Heaven I 've got no metaphor quite ready, 

(And so, my sober Muse — come let 's be steady — 



vn. 

Chaste Muse ! — well, if you must, you must) — the veil 

Thrown back a moment with the glancing hand. 
While the o'erpowering eye, that turns you pale. 

Flashes into the heart : — All sunny land 
Of love ! when I forget you, may I fail * 

To say my prayers — but never w:as there plannM 

A dress through which the eyes gWe s\i<^ ^ noYl«^^ 
Elxcepting the VcDetian FazzioW. 



CAIRO B. DON JUAN. Ol 



VHZ. 

But to our tale : the Donna Inez sent 

Her son to Cadiz only to embark ; 
To stay there had not answer'd her intent, 

But why ? — we leave the reader in the dark — 
^r was for a voyage that the young man was meant^ 

As if a Spanish ship were Noah's ark, 
To wean hira from the wickedness of earth, 
And send him like a dove of promise forth^ 



IX. 

Don Juan bade his valet pack his things 
According to direction, then received 

A lecture and some money : for four springs 
He was to travel ; and tlioujih Inez i^rieved 

(As every kind of parting has its stings) 
She hoped he would improve — periiaps believed : 

A letter, too, she gave (he never read it) 

Of good advice — and two or three of credit. 



X. 



In the mean time, to pass her hours away, 
Brave Inez now set up a Sunday school 

For naughty children, who would rather play 
(Like truant rogues) the devil, or the fool ; 

Int'ants of three years old were taught that day. 
Dunces were whipt, or set upon a stool 

The great success of Juan's education, 

Spurr'd her to teach another generation. 



XI. 

Juan embark 'd — the ship got under way, 
The wind was fair, the water passing rough , 

A devil of a sea rolls in that bay, 
As I, who 've crossed it oft, know well enough ; 

And, standing upon deck, the dashing spray 

Flies in one's face, and makes it wcat\\ur-to\ig\\ •• 

And there he stood to tnkc, and take a^aln, 
His first — perhaps his last — farewell of Spam. 



ra DON JITAH. 



I can't but say it is an awkward sight 
Tp see one's native land receding through 

The growing waters ; it unmans one quitOy 
Elspecialiy when life is rather new : 

I recollect Great Britain's coast looks white» 
But almost every other country 's blue^ 

When gazing on them, mystified by distancct 

We enter on our nautical existence. 



xm. 

So Juan stood, bewilder'd on the deck : 

The wind sung, cordage strain'd, and sailors swore* 
And the ship creak'd, the town became a speck. 

From whicli away so fair and fast thev bore. 
The best of remedies is a beef-steak 

Against sea-sickncss : try it, sir, before 
You sneer, and I assure you this is true. 
For I have found it answer — so may you. 



XIV. 

Don Juan stood, and, gazing from the stern. 
Beheld his native Spain receding far : 

First partings form a lesson hard to learn, 
Even nations feel this when they go to war ; 

There is a sort of unexpress'd concern, 
A kind of shock that sets one's heart ajar : 

At leaving even the most unpleasant people 

And places, one keeps looking at the steeple. 



XV. 



But Juan had got many things to leave, 

His mother, and a mistress, and no wife, 
So that he had much better cause to grieve 

Than many persons more advanced in life ; 
And if we now and then a sigh must heave 
At quitting even those we quit in strife, 
No doubt we weep for those the heart eiide«LT8< 
That is, till deeper griefs congeal our t»axa« 



UKfJL DON JUAN* 65 



I So Juan wept, as wept the captive Jews-. 

By Babel s waters, still remembering Sion z\ 
I 'd weep — but mine is not a weeping Muse, 

And such light griefs are not a thing to die on ; 
Toung men should travel, if but to amuse 

Themselves; and the next time their servants tie on 
Behind their carriages their new portmanteau. 
Perhaps it may be lined with this my canto. 



xvu. 

And Juan wept, and much he sigh'd and thought, 
While his salt tears dropp'd into the salt sea, 

** Sweets to the sweet ; " (I like so much to quote; 
' You must excuse this extract, — 't is where she, 

1 The Queen of Deiurmrk, for Ophcliii brought 

I Flowers to the grave ;) am]^ sobbing ot'ten, he 

Reflected on iiis present situation, 

And seriously resolved on retbrniation. 



xviii. 

" Farewell, my Spain ! a long farewell ' " he cried, 
*' Perhaps 1 may revisit ihee no more. 

But die, as many an exiled heart hath died. 
Of its own tliirst to see ajrain thy shore : 

Farewell, where (Tuadahjuivir's waters glide ! 
Farewell, my niotiier ! and, since all is o'er, 

Farewell, too, dearest Julia ! — (here he drew 

Her letter out again, and read it through.) 



I 



XIX. 

"And oh ! if e'er I should forjret, I swear — 
But that 's impossible, and cannot be^ 

Sooner shall this blue ocean melt to air, 
Sooner shall earth resolve itself to sea, 

Than I resign tlune image, oh, my fair ! 
Or think of any thing, excepting thee; 

A mi/jcl diseased no remedy can pliysic — 
(Here the ship gave a lurch and he srew sea-sVcV. 



54 ^^^^ JVAX* CAVfo.< 



^Sooner shall heaven kiss earth — (here he fdl sicker) 
Oil, Julia ! what is every other woe 1 — 

(For God's sake let ine have a glass of liquor ; 
Pedro, Butlista, help inc down below.) 

Julia, iny love ! — (you rascal, Pedro, quicker) — 
Oh. Julia ! — (this cursed vessel pitches so) — 

Beloved Juha, hear me still beseeching ! " 

(Here he grew inarticulate with retching.) 



XXI. 

He felt that chilling heaviness of heart, 
Or rattier stomach, which, alas ! attends, 

Beyond the l)osl apotheciiry's art, 

The loss ot'love, tlie treacliery of friends, 

Or death of those we dole on, wiien a part 
Of us dies witii th(Mn as each tbnd ho{>e ends : 

No doubt he would have been much more pathetiCf 

But the sea acted as a strong emetic. 



XXII. 

Love 's a capricious power : I Ve known it hold 
Out throu^^h a fever caused bv its own heat. 

But 1)0 much [Hizzled by a cou^h and cold, 
And find a quinsy very hard to treat ; 

Asr:unst all noble maladies he 's bold. 
But vulgar illnesses do n t like to meet. 

Nor that a sneeze should interrupt his sigh, 

Nor inflammations redden his blind eye. 



xxiu. 

But worst of all is nausea, or a pain 

About the lower resrion of the bowels ; 
Love, who heroically breathes a vein. 

Shrinks from the application of hot towels, 
And pur^ratives are dangerous to his reign. 

Sea-sickness death : his love was perfect, how else 
Could Juan*a passion, while the biWowa to^t. 
Resist his stomach, ne'er at sea before 1 



cunotL IH>N jVAir* (f5 



The ship, call'd the most holy ^ Trinidida,'' 
Was steering duly for the port Leghorn ; 

For there the Spanish family Moncada 

Were settled long ere Juan's sire was bom : 

They were relations, and for them he had a 
Letter of introduction, which the mom 

Of his departure had been sent him by 

His Spanish friends for those in Italy. 



XXV. 

His suite consisted of three servants and 

A tutor, the licentiate PedrlUo, 
Who several languages did understand, 

But now lay sick and speechless on his pillow, 
And, rocking in his hammock, long'd for land. 

His heudach being increased by every billow; 
And tiie waves oozing through the port-hole made 
His birth a little damp, and him afraid. 



XXVI. 

T was not without some reason, for the wind 
Increased at night, until it blew a gale ; 

And thouffh 't was not much to a naval mind, 
Some landsmen would have look d a little pale. 

For sailors are, in fact, a diilcrent kind : 
At sunset they began to take in sail. 

For the sky show'd it would come on to blow, 

And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so. 



XX\T[I. 

At one o'clock the wind with sudden shift 
Threw the ship right into the trough of the sea, 

Which struck her aft, and made an awkward rift, 
Started the stern-post, also shatlerM the 

Whole of her stern-frame, and, ere she could lift 
Herself from out her present jeopardy, 

TVie rudder tore away : 't was time to sound 
The pumpa, and there were four feet water fo\iT\A 



60 DON JUAN. 



zzvni. 



Odo gang of people instantly was put 

Upon the pumps, and the remainder set 
To get up part of the cargo, and what not ; 

But they could not come at the leak as yet ; 
At last they did get at it really, but 

Still their salvation was an even bet : 
The water rush'd through in a way quite puzzling. 
While they thrust sheets, shirts, jackets, bales of musliiv 



Into the opening ; but all such ingredients 

Would have been vain, and they must have gone down, 
Despite of all their eftbrts and expedients. 

But for the pumps : I 'in glad to make them known 
To all the brollier tars who may have need hence. 

For fifty tons of water were upthrown 
By tliem per hour, and they had all been undone^ 
But for the maker, Mr. Mann, of Loudon. 



XXX. 



As day advanced tlie weather seem'd to abate. 
And then the leak thev reckon'd to reduce. 

And keep the ship afloat, though three {^^i yet 
Kept two hand and one chain-pump still in use. 

The wind blew fresh again : as it grew late 

A squall came on, and while some guns broke loose, 

A gust — which all descriptive power transcends — 

Laid with one blast the ship on her beam ends. 



XXXI. 

There she lay, motionless, and seem'd upset ; 

The water left the hold, and wash'd the decks. 
And made a scene men do not soon forget ; 

For they remember battles, fires, and wrecks, 
Or any other thing that brings regret, 

Or breaks their hopes, or hearts, or heads, or necks 
Thu3 drowDinga arc much ta\kM of by iVie ^VQn:s« 
And Bwiauaera^ who may chance to bemsvvNOtn* 



DOir jVAir. 07 



Immediately the maats were cut away» 

Both main and mizen ; first the mizen went, 

Tlie main-mast fbllow'd : but the ship still lay 
Like a mere log, and baffled our intent. 

Foremast and bowsprit were cut down, and they 
Eased her at last (although we never meant 

To part with all till every hope was blighted), 

And then with violence the old ship righted. 



Inis, 



It may be easily supposed, while this 

Was going on, some people were unquiet. 

That passengers would find it much amiss 
To lose their lives, as well as spoil their diet ; 

That even the able seaman, deeming his 
Days nearly o'er, might ha disposed to riot, 

As upon such occasions tars will ask 

For grog, and sometimes drink rum from the cask. 

XXXIV. 

Tliere 's nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms 

As rum and true religion : thus it was, 
Some plunder'd, some drank spirits, some sung psah 

The high wind made the treble, and as bass 
The hoarse harsh waves kept time ; fright cured the 
qualms 

Of all the luckless landsmen's sea-sick maws : 
Strange sounds of wailing, blasphemy, devotion, 
Ciamour'd in chorus to the roaring ocean. 

XXXV. 

Perhaps more mischief had been done, but for 
Our Juan, who, with sense beyond his years, 

Got to the spirit-room, and stood l)efore 
It with a pair of pistols ; and their fears, 

As if Death were more dreadful by his door 
Of iiro than water, spite of oaths and tears. 

Kept still aloof the crow, who, ere they sunV* 
Tboaght it would he becoming to die drunk 



^S DON JuAff« 



XXXVI. 

*• Give US more grog,'* they cried, **for it will be 
All one an hour hence." Juan ansMrer'd, •* No ! 

T is true that death awaits both you and me, 
But let us die like men, not sink below 

Like brutes : " — and thus his dangerous post kept he^ 

* And none liked to anticipate the blow ; 

And even Pedrillo, his most reverend tutor, 

«Was for some rum a disappointed suitor. 



\ 



xxxvn. 

The good old gentleman was quite aghast, 
And made a loud and pious lamentation ; 

Repented all his sins, and made a last 
Irrevocable vow of reformation ; 

Nothintr sIiouKl tempt him more (this peril past) 
To quit his academic occupation, 

In cioistei*s of the classic Salamanca, 

To follow Juan's wake, like Sancho Panca. 



xxxviii. 

But now there came a flash of hope once more ; 

Day broke, and the wind luHM : the masts were gjon^ 
'l^e leak incn^ased ; shoals round her, hut no shore, 

The vessel swam, yet srlU she held her own. 
They tried the punij>s aj;;iin, and thoiiirfi before 

Their desperate efforts soemM all useless 2:rown, 
A glimpse of sunshine set some hands to bale — 
The stronger pump'd, the weaker thrumm'd a saiL 



XXXIX. 

Under the vessel's keel the sail M-as past, 

And for the moment it had some effect ; 
But with a leak, and not a stick of mast. 

Nor rag of canvass, what could they expect t 
But still 't is best to strugsrle to the last, 
T is never too late to be wholly wreck'd : 
And though 't is true that man can only d\e oiic«, 
T is not BO phaaani in the Guif of I«y ona. 



DOH jUAir. 60 



There winds and waves had hurl'd them, and from thence, 
Without their will, they carried them away ; 

For they were forced with steering to dispense. 
And never had as yet a quiet day 

On which they might repose, or even commence 
A jury-mast or rudder, or could say 

The ship would swim an hour, which, by good luck. 

Still swam — though not exactly like a duck. 



XLI. 

The wind, in fact, perhaps, was rather less. 

But the ship labour'd so, they scarce could hope 

To weather out much longer ; the distress 
Was also great with which they had to cope 

For want of water, and their solid mess 
Was scant enough : in vain the telescope 

Was used — nor sail nor shore appear'd in sight, 

Nought but the heavy sea, and coming night. 



XLII. 

Again the weather threaten'd, — again blew 
A gale, and in the fore and after hold 

Water appear'd ; yet, though tlic people knew 
All this, the most were patient, and some hold. 

Until the chains and leathers were worn through 
Of all our ()uinps : — a wreck complete she rolPd, 

At mercy of tlie waves, whose mercies are 

Like human beings during civil war. 



xLin. 

Then came the carpenter, at last, with tears 
In his rough eyes, and told the captain, he 
Could do no more : he was a man in years, 

And long had voyaged through many a stormy sea. 
And if he wej>t at hmjith, they were not fears 

That nmdc his eyelids as a woman's be, 
But lie, poor fellow, had a with and children, 
Tfvo things for dying people quite bewildering. 



DOR JUAir. GUnOi 



The ship was evidently settling now 

Fast by the head ; and, all distinction gone^ 

Some went to prayers again, and made a vow 
Of candles to their saints — but there were none 

To pay them with ; and some look'd o'er the bow ; 
Some hoisted out the boats ; and there was one 

That begg'd Pudrillo for an absolution, 

Who told him to be damn'd — in hi» confusion. 



XLY. 

Some lashM them in their hammocks ; some put on 

Their best clothes, as if going to a fair; 
Some cursed the day on which they saw the sun. 

And gnasliM their teeth, and, howlinjj, tore their hair; 
And others went on as they liad begun, 

Getting the boats out, being well aware 
That a tigiit boat will live in a rough sea, 
Unless with breakers close beneath her lee. 



XLVI. 

The worst of all was, that in their condition, 
Having been several days in great distress, 

'T was diihcult to get out such provision 

As now mi"rht render their lonir sufferinff less : 

Men, even when dyinjr, dislike inanition ; 

Their stock was damaged by the weather's stress : 

Two casks of biscuit, and a keg of butter. 

Were all that could be thrown into the cutter. 



XLVU. 

But in the long-boat they contrived to stow 

Some pounds of bread, though injured by the wet ; 
Water, a twenty-gallon cask or so ; 

Six flasks of wine ; and they contrived to get 
A portion of their beef up from below. 

And with a piece of pork, moreover, met 
But scarce enough to serve them Cot a VuucVieoTi — 
Then there was rum, eight golIonB in a puncVifion 



DOH JVAH. 71 



Ilie other boata» the jrawl and pinnace, haa 
Been stove in the beginning of the gale ; 

And the long-boat's condition was but bad» 
As there were but two blankets for a sail. 

And one oar for a mast, which a young lad 
Threw in by good luck over the ship s rail ; 

And two boats could not hold, far less be stored, 

To mve one half the people then on board. 



XLIZ. 

T was twilighti and the sunless day went down 
Over the waste of waters ; like a veil. 

Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown 
Of one whode hate is mask'd but to assail. 

Thus to their ho()cless eyes tlie night was sliown, 
And grimly darkled o'er the faces pale 

And tlie dim desolate deep : twelve days had Fear 

Been their familiar, and now Death was here. 



L. 



Some trial had been making at a rail, 
With little hope in such a ruUing sea, 

A sort of thing at wnich one would have laugh'd. 
If any laughter at suen times could be, 

UnlosH witli [>eoj)le who too much have quaflfd, 
And have a kind of wild and horrid glee, 

Half epileptical, and half hysterical : — 

llieir preservation would have been a miracle 



LI. 

4t half-past eight o'clock, booms, hencoops, spari^ 
And all things, for a chance, had been cast looset 

That still could keep ailoat the struggling tars, 
For yet they strove, although of no great use : 

There was no light in heaven but a few stars ; 
The boats put oif o'ercrowdcd with their crews* 

tfhe gave a heel, and then a lurch to port, 
And, going down head-foremost — sunk, in bV\otU 



7S DON JUAlf. 



JUI. 



Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell — 
Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the hmve^ • 

Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell* 
As eager to anticipate their grave ; 

And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell. 

And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave^ 

Like one who grapples with his enemy, 

And strives to strangle him before he die. 



Lin. . 

And first one universal shriek there rush'd» 
Louder than the loud ocean, like a orash 

Of echoing thunder ; and then all was hush'd. 
Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash 

Of billows ; but at intervals there gush'd, 
Accompanied with a convulsive splash, 

A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry 

Of some strong swimmer in his agony. 



Lrv. 



The boats, as stated, had got off before. 
And in them crowded several of the crew ; 

And yet their present hope was hardly more 
Than what it had been, for so strong it blew 

There was slight chance of reaching any shore " 
And then they were too many, though so few 

Nine in the cutter, thirty in the boat. 

We counted in them when they got afloat. 



LT. 

An the rest perish'd ; near two hundred souls 

Had left their bodies ; and, what 's worse, alas I 
When over Catholics the ocean rolls, 

They must wait several weeks before a mass 
Takes off one peck of purgatorial coals. 

Because, till people know what 's come to passy 
TJicy won^t lay out their money on lV\e dead — 
It casta three francs for every mass iVial '*% said. 



PON JUAH, 7S 



Lvr. 



Joan got into the long-boat, and there 
Contrived to help Pedrillo to a place , 

It aeem'd as if they had exchanged their caroy 
For Juan wore the magisterial face 

Which courage gives, while poor Pedrillo's pair 
Of eyes were crying for their owner's case: 

Battista, though, (a name call'd shortly Tita) 

Was lost by getting at some aqua-vita. 



Lvn. 

Pedro, his valet, too, he tried to save, 

But the same cause, conducive to his loss, 

"Led him so drunk, he jump'd into the wave 
As o'er the cutter's edge he tried to cross, 

And &o lie found a wine-and-watery grave ; 
They cuuld not rescue litiii although so close, 

Because tlie sea ran higher every minute, 

And for the boat — the crew kept crowding in it. 



LVIII. 

A small old spaniel, — which had been Don Josh's, 
liis father's, whom he loved, as ye may think. 

For oil such things the memory reposes 

With tenderness — stood howling on the brink* 

Knowing, (dogs have such intellectual noses !) 
No doubt, the vessel was about to sink ; 

And Juan caught him up, and ere he stepp'd 

Off, threw him in, then after him he leap'd. 



LIX. 

He also stufPd his monev where he could 
About his person, and Pedrillo's too. 

Who let him do, in fact, whate'er he would. 
Not knowing what himself to say, or do. 

As every rising wave his dread renew'd ; 
But Juan, trusting tlwy might still get througVv, 

Anf/ deeming there were remedies for any i\\, 
7»i» re-emlwrk'd his tutor and his Bpanie\. 



74 DON jUAir. 



LX. 



T was a rough night, and blew so stiffly yet. 
That the sail was becalm'd between the seas. 

Though on the wave's high top too much to set. 
They dared not take it in for all the breeze: 

Each sea curlM o'er the stern, and kept them wet^ 
And made them bale without a moment's ease* 

So that themselves as well as hopes were damped. 

And the poor little cutter quickly swarap'd. 



LXI. 

Nine souls more went in her : the long-boat still 
Kept above water, with an oar for mast. 

Two blankets stitch'd together, answering ill 
Instead of sail, were to the oar made fast : 

Though every wave roll'd menacing to fill. 
And present peril all before surpassed. 

They grieved for those who perishM with the cutter. 

And also for the biscuit-casks and butter. 



Lxn. 

The sun rose red and fiery, a sure sign 
Of the continuance of the gale : to run 

Before the sea until it should grow fine, 

Was all that for the present could be done : 

A few tea-spoonfuls of their rum and wine 
Were servM out to the people, who begun 

To faint, and damaged bread wet through the baga. 

And most of them had little clothes but rags. 



Lxni. 

They counted thirty, crowded in a space 

Which left scarce room for motion or exertion ; 
They did their best to modify their case, 

One half sate up though numbM with the immersion^ 
While t' other half were laid down in their place. 
At watch and watch ; thus, shivering like the tertian 
Ague in its cold fit, they fiU'd iVievt Vjoal, 
With nothing but the sky for a gteait-coai. 



DON JVAir. 7ft 



T ia veiy certain the deaire of life 

Prolongs it : this is obvious to physiciansy 

When patients, neither plagued with friends nor wi 
Survive through very desperate conditions, 

Because they still can hopes, nor shines the knife 
Nor shears of Atropos before their visions : 

Despair of all recovery spoils longevity. 

And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity. 



LXV. 

T is said that persons living on annuities 

Are longer lived than others, — God knows why 

Unless to plague the grantors, — yet so true it is» 
That some, 1 really think, do never die ; 

Of anv creditors the worst a Jew it is, 

And iluA 's their mode offurnisliing supply : 

In my young days they lent me cash that way, 

Which 1 found very troublesome to pay. 



LXVI. 

T is thus with people in an open boat. 
They live upon the love of life, and bear 

More than can be believed, or even thought. 

And stand like rocks the tempest's wear and tear; 
/And hardship still has Ixicn the sailor's lot, 

Since Noah's ark went cruising here and there; 

She had a curious crew as well as cargo, 

Like the first old Greek privateer, the Argo. -' 

LXVII. 

But man is a carnivorous production. 

And must have meals, at least one meal a day ; 

He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction. 
But, like the shark and ti^er, must have prey; 

Although his anatoniioil construction 
Bears vo^c tables, in a gruiribling way. 

Tour labouring people think beyond all question) 
Beef, veal, and wuttoa, better lor digestion. 



76 DON JUAX* C4Hfa 



£zvin. 

And thus it was with this our hapless crew ; 

For on the third day there came on a calm. 
And though at first their strength it might reneir« 

And lying on their weariness like balm, 
Lull'd them like turtles sleeping on the blue 

or ocean, when they woke they felt a qualoo^ 
And fell all ravenously on their provision. 
Instead of hording it with due precision. 



LXIX. 

The consequence was easily foreseen ^ 

They ato up all they had, and drank their wine. 

In sphe of all remonstrances, and then 

On what, in fact, next day were they to dine? 

They hoped the wind would rise, these foolish men 
And carry the{n to shore ; these hopes were fine. 

But as they had but one oar, and timt brittle. 

It would have been more wise to save their victual* 



LXX. 

The fourth day cam-^, but not a breath of air. 
And Ocean slumberM lik<; an unweanM child : 

The fifth day, and their boat lav tloatins there. 

The sea and sky were blue, and clear, and mild — 

With their one oar (1 wish tiioy had had a pair) 
What could they do ? and iiun«jjor's rage grew wild 

So Juan's spaniel, spite of his entreating. 

Was kill'd, and portion'd out for present eating. 



LXX I. 

On the sixth day they fed upon his hide. 

And Juan, who had still refused, because 
The creature was his father's dog that died, 

Now feeling all the vulture in his jaws. 
With some remorse received (though first denied) 

As a great favour one of the fore-paws, 
Which he divided with PedriUo, who 
Devoured it, longing for the other too. 



Ik DON juAir« 77 



Lxxn. 

llie seventh day, and no wind — the burning tun 
Blister'd and scorch'd, and, stagnant on the iieay 

They lay like carcasses ; and hope was none, 
Save in the breeze that came not ; savagely 

They glared upon each other — all was done. 
Water, and wine, and food, — and you might 

The longings of the cannibal arise 

(Although they spoke not) in their wolfish eyes. 



Lxxni. 

A.t length one whisper'd his companion, who 
Whisper'd another, and thus it went round, 

And then into a hoarser murmur grew, 

And ominous, and wild, and cJesperato sound; 

And wh**n his comrade's thought oacli suiierer knew, 
'T was but his own, suppressed till now, lie found : 

And out th(?y spoke of lots for flesh and blood. 

And who should die to be his fellow's food. 



LXXIV. 

But ere they came U^ tliis, they that day shared 
Some leathern caps, and what rcmainM of shoes; 

And then thev lookM around theni, and des{>air'd, 
And none to he the sacrifice would choose; 

At lenp:th the lots were torn up, and pre[)ared, 
But of materials that must shock the iMuse — 

Having no paper, for the want of better, 

They took by force from Juan Julia's letter. 



LXXV. 

The lots were made, and mark'd, and mlx'd, and handed* 

In silent horror, and their distribution 
Lull'd even the savage hunger which demanc.'ed. 

Like the Promethean vulture, this pollution; 
None in particular had sought or plann'd it, 

*T was nature gnawed (hem to this reso\ul\oT\, 
By which none were permitted to be neulet — 
And the Jot fell on Juan's luckless tutor. 



73 DON jUAir. 



LXXVI. 



He iHit requested to be bled to death : 

The surgeon had his instrumeDts, aud blod 

Pedrillo, and so gently ebb'd his breath, 

You hardly could perceive when he was dead* 

He died as born, a Catholic in faith, 

Like most in the belief in which they 're bred. 

And first a little crucifix he kiss'd, 

And then held out his jugular and wrist. 



LXXVII. 

The surgeon, as there was no other fee. 

Had his first choice of morsels for his pains ; 

But being thirstiest at the moment, he 

Preferr'd a draught from the fast-flowing veins : 

Part was divided, purt tlirown in the sea, 

And such thiniis as (he entrails and the brains 

Regaled two sharks, who followM o'er the billow — 

The sailors ate the rest of poor Pedrillo. 



i.xxvin. 

The sailors ate him, all save three or four. 
Who were not quite so fond of animal food ; 

To these was added Juan, who, before 
Refusing his own spaniel, hardly could 

Feel now his appetite increased much more ; 
'T was not to l>e expected that he should, 

Even in extremity of their disaster, 

Dine with them on his pastor and his master. 



LXXIX. 

T was better that he did not ; for, in fact. 

The consequence was awful in the extreme, 
For they, who were most ravenous in the act, 

Went raging mad — Lord ! how they did blaspW 
•And foam and roll, with str.mge convulsions rack i, 

Drinking salt-water like u mountain-stream. 
Tearing, and grinning, howling, screecViiu^ avfeaiJxTk^, 
And, with iijasnaJaughter, died deapainn^. 



eurrv n. don juan. 70 



JjXXXm 

Their numbers were much thinn'd by this infliction, 
And all the rest were thin enough, Heaven knows ; 

And some of them had lost their recollection, 

Happier than they who still perceived their woes ; 

But others ponder'd on a new dissection, 
As if not warn'd sufficiently by those 

Who had already perish'd, suffering madly, 

For having used their appetites so sadly 



Lxxxr. 

And next they thought upon the master's mate, 
As fattest ; but he saved himself, because. 

Besides being much averse from such a fate, 
There were some other reasons : the first was, 

He had been rather indisposed oflate, 

And that which chiefly proved his saving clause. 

Was a small present made to him at Cadiz, 

By general subscription of the ladies. 



J XXXII. 

Of poor Pedrillo something still remained, 
But was used sparingly, — some were afraid, 

And others still their appetites constrained, 
Or but at times a little supper made ; 

All except Juan, who throughout abstain'd, 
Chewing a piece of bamboo, and some lead : 

At length they caught two boobies, and a noddy, 

And then they left off eating the dead body. 



LXXXIU. 

And if Pedrillo's fate should shocking be. 

Remember Ugolino condescends 
To eat the head of his arch-enemy 

The moment after he politely ends 
His tale ; if foes be food in hell, at sea 

'T is surely fair to dine upon our friends, 
When shipwreck's short aliowancc grows too scanVl 
Without being much more horrible than Dante. 



J 



80 DON JVAV. 



XJOXIV. 



And the same night there fell a shower of rain. 

For which their mouths gaped, like the cracks of earth 

When dried to summer dust ; till taught by pain, 
Men really know not what good water 's worth ; 

If you had been in Turkey or in Spain, 

Or with a famish'd boat's-crew had your berth. 

Or in the desert heard the camel's bell, 

You *d wish 'yourself where Truth is — in a well. 



I.XXXV. 

It pour'd do\ni torrents, but they were no richer* 
Until they found a ragged piece of sheet, 

Which served them as a sort of spongy pitcher, 
And when they deem'd its moisture was complete. 

They wrung it out, and tliough a thirsty ditcher 

Might not have thouglit the scanty draught so sweet 

As a full pot of porter, to their thinking 

They ne'er till now had known the joys of drinking. 



LXXXVI. 

And their baked lips, with many a bloody crack, 
Suck'd in the moisture, which like nectar stream'd ; 

Their throats were ovens, their swoln tongues were black. 
As the rich man's in hell, who vainly scream'd 

To beg the beggar, who could not rain back 
A drop of dew,j¥hen every drop had soem'd 

To taste of heavenj — if this be true, indeed. 

Some Christians^^ve a comfortable creed. 



LXXXVII. 

There were two fathers in this ghastly crew. 

And with them their two sons, of whom the one 
Was more robust and hardy to the view. 

But he died early ; and when he was gone, 
His nearest messmate told his sire, who threw 
One glance on him, and said, " Hea\eii'a will be done I 
1 can do nothiDg," and he «aw Viim tlbrowii 
into the deep without a tear or groan. 



"•^MIO. 



DOK JVAir* Vi 



IXXXTSXU 



The other father had a weaklier child, 
or a soil cheek, aod aspect delicate ; 

But the boy bore up long, and with a mild 
And patient spirit held aloof his fate ; 

Little he Haid, and now and then he smiled, 
As if to win a part from off the weight 

He saw increasing on his father's heart, 

With the deep deadly thought, that they must part. 



LXXXIX. 

And o'er him bent his sire, and never raised 

His eyes from off his face, but wiped the foam / ^ 

From his pale lips, and ever on hira gazed, .-'^'' 

And when the wish'd-for shower at lenirth ^ore-'-^ 

And the bov's eyes, which the dull lilni \'^b»y ^^"-^ corne, 
BrightcnM, and lor a moment seem'tiirp**" &^^zed. 

He squeezed from out a rag some dr^ / ^^''oam. 

Into his dyin«r child's mouth — bu^ v^^P^ of rain 



The boy expired - the "Tafher held the cJav 

Death left no -.o-.bt, and the dead burthen lav 
btUl on h.s heart und pulse and hope were past 

lie watch d It wistf.dlv, until awav ^ ' 

'T was borne by l|,e rude wave'wiiei-o.n 'i 

The„ he hiuKseltsunk down all dun^' ^ . ",, ^iL'"' ' 

And gave no s.gn oflile. save his li.nbs quiveringf ' 



XCI. 



W overhea.l a rambow, bursting; throu<.h 

rhe scultennjT cb.uds, shone, spanning the dark «». 
ResUns , s hrjKht base on the quilerin J.lue j * 

And a! uM Inn ,ts arch appear'.! to ho ' 

Clearer th,,„ that vvi.lu.ut. and its wide lu.e 

\\a.\ t) liro.ifl tind wiivincr l,l,„ „ i 
nc„ chun.,.,l like to abofv hZ ^ ."""''' ^'^'^' 

no. rA— o ■ '"' "^ '^'sc sh.pwrcckM ,nen. 



DON JUAB. CMil. ^ 



xcn. 



It changed, of course ; a hearenly cameleon, 
The airy child of vapour and the sun. 

Brought forth in purple, cradled in vermilion, 
Baptized in molten gold, and swathed in dun 

Glittering like crescents o'er a Turk's pavilion, 
And blending every colour into one. 

Just like a black eye in a recent scuffle 

(For sometimes we must box without the muffle). 



xcin. 



Our shipw^c^'^ seamen thought it a good omen 
Tt is as well to think so, now and then ; 
T wa^ -' an old custom of the Greek and Roman, 

And mu V become of grca^ advantage when 
Folks are di^^^ourajred ; and most surely no men 

Had erea^®^ kieed to nerve themselves again 
Than these, an^ *^^*^ ^^^^ rainbow look'd like hope 
Quite a celestial ki^-'eidoscope. 



X .'^IV. 



About this time a beautiful wh.'te bird, 
Wcbfooted, not unlike a dove m «ize 

And plumage (probably it miirht have err'd 
Upon its course), pass'd ot't before their eyes, 

And tried to pcifch, although it saw and heard 
The men within the boat, and in tl;is guise 

It came and went, and flutter'd round them till 

Night fell : — this seem'd a better omen still. 



xcv. 



But in this case I also must remark, 

^^'T was well this bird of promise did not perch. 

Because the tackle of our shatter'd bark 

Was not so safe for roosting as a church ; 
(And had it been the dove from Noah's ark, 

Returning there from her successful search, 

Which in their way that momenl cV\ai\ceA lo ^«JX» 

Thejr would have eat her, o\ive.bratic\i und «iX. \ 



Doir JVAir. 9a 



ZCTX. 



Witli twilight it again came on to Uow 
But not with violence ; the stars shone out* 

The boat made way ; yet now they were so low, 
They knew not where nor what they were about ; 

Some fancied they saw land, and some said ^ No ! " 
The frequent fog-banks gave tliem cause to doubt* 

Some swore that they heard breakers, others guns^ 

And all mistook about the latter once. 



XCVII. 

As morning broke, the light wind died away, 
When he who had the watch sung out and swore^ 

If 't was not land that rose with the sun's ray. 
He wish'd that land he never might see more ; 

And the rest rubbM their eves, and saw a bav. 

Or thought they saw, and shaped their course for shore 

For shore it was, and gradually grew 

Distinct, and high, and palpable to view. 



xcviii. 

And then of these some part burst into tears, 
And others, looking with a stupid stare. 

Could not yet separate their hopes from fears, 
And seem'd as if they had no furtlier care ; 

While a few pray'd — (the first time for some years) 
And at the bottom of the boat three were 

Asleep : they shook them by the hand and head. 

And tried to awaken them, but found them dead. 



XCIX. 

The day before, fast sleeping on the water, 
They found a turtle of the hawk's-bill kind. 

And by good fortune, gliding softly, caught her. 
Which yielded a day's life, and to their mind 

Proved even still a more nutritious matter, 
Because it lefl cncoumgement behind : 

They thought that in such perils, more that cYiailfiA 
Had sent them thia for tiieir deliverance. 



M DOH JUAH. 



C. 




The land appeared a high and rocky coast, 
And higher grew the mountains as they dieir. 

Set by a current, toward it : they were lost 
In various conjectures, for none knew 

To what part of the earth they had been tost. 
So changeable had been the winds that blew ; 

Some thought it was Mount iEtna, some the highlands 

Of Candia, Cyprus, Rhodes, or other islands. 



CI. 

Meantime the current, with a rising gale. 
Still set them onwards to the welcome shore, 

Like Charon's bark of spectres, dull and pale : 
Tlieir living freight was now reduced to four. 

And three dead, whom their strength could not avail 
To heave into the deep with those before, 

Though the two sharks still followed them, and dash'd 

The spray into their faces as they splash'd. 



cu. 

Famine, despair, cold, thirst, and heat, had done 
Their work on them by turns, and thinn'd them to 

Such things a mother had not known her son 
Amidst tlie skeletons of that gaunt crew ; 

By night chilPd, by day scorcird, thus one by one 
They perish'd, until wither'd to the^e few, 

But chieiiy by a species of self-slaughter, 

In w:ishing down Pedrillo with salt water. 



cm. 

As they drew nigh the land, which now was seen 
Unequal in its aspect here and there, 
hey felt the freshness of its growing green. 
That waved in forest-tops, and smooth'd the air, 
nd fell upon their glazed eyes like a screen 
From glistening waves and skies so hot and bare 
rely aeem'd any object that shouVd sweei^ 
' Awav the vast, salt, dread, eternsA doep. 



HHMA DOH JUAHa 



av. 



/ 

/ 



The shore look'd wild, without a trace of maiii 
And girt by formidable waves ; but they 

Were mad for land, and thus their course they ran. 
Though right ahead the roaring breakers lay : 

A reef between them also now began 

To show its boihng surf and bounding spray. 

But finding no place for their landing better, 

They ran the boat for shore, — and overset her. 



ov. 



\ H^t 



in his native stream, the Guadalquivir, 
\ / Juan to lave his youthful limbs was wont ; 
Jf And having learn'd to swim in that sweet river, 
/ Had often turn'd the art to some account : 
/ A better swimnier you could scarce see ever, 

He could, perhaps, have pass'd the Hellespont, 
As once (a feat on which ourselves we prided) 
i Leander, Mr. Ekenhead, and I did. 



cvi. 

So here, though faint, emaciated, and stark. 
He buoy'd his boyish limbs, and strove to ply 

With the quick wave, and gain, ere it was dark, 
The beach wliich lay bet'ore liini, hiijjii and dry 

The greatest danorer here was from a shark, 
That carried od* his neighbour by the thigh, 

As for the other two, they could not swim 

So nobody arrived on shore but him. 



cvii. 

Nor yet had he arrived but for the oar. 
Which, providentially for him, was wash'd 

Just as his feeble arms could strike no more. 

And the hard wave o'erwhelm'd him as 't was dash'd 

Within his grasp ; he clung to it, and sore 
The waters beat wliile he thereto was losh'd*, 

At last, with swimmings wading, scrambVing, \\© 
£o/rd on the beach, half senseless, from the Beax 



DON JUAX. OLVTO 



cvin. 



There, breathless, with his digging nails he dung 
Fast to the sand, lest the returning wave, 

From whose reluctant roar his life he wrung. 
Should suck him back to her insatiate grave : 

And there he lay, full length, where he was flung 
Before the entrance of a clifT-worn cave. 

With just enough of life to feel its pain. 

And deem that it was saved, perhaps, in vain« 



cix. 



With slow and staggering effort he arose. 
But sunk again upon his bleeding knee 

And quivering hand ; and then he lookM for those 
Who long had been his mates upon the sea ; 

But none of them appearM to share his woes. 
Save one, a corpse from out the tamish*d three. 

Who died two days before, and now had tbund 

An unknown barren beach for burial ground. 



ex. 

And as he gazed, his dizzy brain spun fast. 

And down he sunk ; and as he sunk, the sand 
Swam round and round, and all his senses pass'd 

He fell upon his side, and his stretch'd hand 
Droop'd dripping on the oar (their jury-mast), 

And, like a wither'd lily, on the land 
His slender frame and pallid aspect lay 
As fair a thing as e'er was form'd of clay 



How long in his damp trance young Juan lay 

He knew not, for the earth was gone for him, 
And Time had nothing more of night nor day 

For hij congealing blood, and senses dim ; 
And how this heavy faintness pass'd away 
He knew not, till each painful pulae aiid Urals 
And tingling vein, seemM throbbing bacV VoVvfe, 
F'or Death, though vanquiBh'd, sdU Tc»tit*^ wkAi itofe* 



DON JUAN. 67 



OXII. 



His eyes he open'd, shut, again unclosed, 
For all was doubt and dizziness ; he thought 

He still was in the boat, and had but dozed, 
And felt again with his despair overwrought, 

And wish'd it death in which he had reposed, 

And then once more his feelings back were brought, 

And slowly by his swimming eyes was seen 

A lovely female face of seventeen. 



cxiu. 

T was bending close o'er his, and the small mouth 
Seem'd almost prying into his for breath ; 

And chafing him, the soft warm hand of youth 
RecallM his ans\v<'ring .sjurits buck from death; 

An«!, l>alhinjr his ciiiil tfinples, tried to sooth© 
Eacli pulse to sminiJition, till heneuth 

Its gentle touch and tieuibling care, a sigh 

To these kind efiorts made a low reply. 



CXIV. 

Then was the cordial pour'd, and mantle flung 
Around his scarce-clad limbs ; and the fair arm 

Raised higher the faint head which o'er it hung; 
And her trausjKirenl clieek, all pun^ and warm, 

PillowM his death-like I'orcliead ; then she wrung 
His dewy curls, lonij drencdiM by every storm , 

And watched with eagerness each throb that drew 

A sigh from his heaved bosom — and hers, too. 



cxv. 

And lifting him with care into the cave. 
The gentle girl, and her attendant, — one 

Young, yet her elder, and of brow less grave, 
And more robust of figure, — then begun 

To kindle fire, and as the new flames gave 

Light to the rocks that roof'd them, wUicVi W\^ SVMi 

If ad never seen, the maid, or whatsoe'er 
She was, appeared distinct, and tail, and fait. 



DOH JUAJI* OiMIO 



GZVI. 



Her brow was overhung with ooiiis of gold. 
That sparkled o'er the auburn of her hair. 

Her clustering hair, whose longer locks were roU'd 
In braids behind ; and though her stature were 

Even of the highest for a feiuale mould. 

They nearly reach'd her heel ; and in her air 

There was a something which bespoke commaiidf 

As one who was a lady in the land. 



cxvn* 

Her hair, I said, was auburn ; but her eye 

Were black as death, their lashes the same hiM^ 

Of downcast length, in whose silk shadow lies 
Deepest attract ion ; for when to the view 

Forth tVoin its niven tVirige the t'lill glance flies. 
Ne'er with such force the swiftest arrow flew; 

T is as the snake late coil'd, wiio pours his lengthy 

And hurls at once his venom and his strength. 



cxvin. 

Her brow was white and low, her cheek's pure dye 
Like twilijrht rosy still with the v<et sun ; 

Short upper lip — sweet lips! that makes us sigh 
Ever to have seen such ; tor she was one 

Fit lor the model of a statuary, 

(A race of mere impostors, when all 's dono — 

I 've set^n much finer women, ripe and real. 

Than all the nonsense of their stone ideal). 



cxix. 

I ni tell you why I say so, for 't is just 

One should not rail without a decent cause : 
There was an Irish ladv, to whose bust 

I ne'er saw justice done, and yet she was 
A frequent model ; and if e'er she must 

Yield to stem Time and Nature's wrinkling lawi 
They will dexitroy a face which moTta\\)ho\M^\. 
Ae'er compaaB% nor less moriai cVuae\ >RiQOk|)DX* 



flAfltOB. DOir JtTAK. 



CXZ« 



And such was she, the ]ady of the cave : 

Her dress was very different from the Spanish, 
Simpler, and yet of colours not so grave ; 
' For, as you know, the Spanish women banish 
Bright hues when out of doors, and yet, while wave 

Around them (what I hope will neyer vanish) 
The basquina and the mantilla, they 
Seem at the same time mystical and gay. 

cxxi. 

But with our damsel this was not the case : 
Her dress was many-colour'd, finely spun ; 

Her locks ciirl'd negligently round her face, 

But through them gold and gems profusely shone : 

Her girdle sparkled, and the richest lace 

Flow'd in her veil, and many a precious stone 

Flash'd on her little hand ; but, what was shocking. 

Her small snow feet had slippers, but no stocking. 



CXXII. 

The other female's dress was not unlike. 

But of inferior materials : she 
Had not so manv ornaments to strike, 

Her hair had silver onlv, hound to he 
Her dowry ; and lie r veil, in form alike, 

Was coarser ; and her air, though firm, less free ; 
Her hair was thicker, but less long ; her eyes 
As black, but quicker, and of smaller size. 



CXXIII. 

As these two tended him, and cheer'd him both 

With food and raiment, and those soft attentions. 
Which are — (as I must own) — of female growth, 

And have ten thousand delicate inventions. 
They made a most superior mess of brolh, 

A \\i\ng which poesy but seldom mentVous, 
Bat the best dish that e'er was cook'd since l\ou\«t*f>> 
Achilles order'd dinner for new comers* 



00 Don jUAir. 



I '11 tell you who they were, this female peir. 

Lest they should seem princesses in disguise ; 
iBesides, I hate all mystery, and that air 
I Of clap-trap, which your recent Ipoets prize 
And so, in short, the girls they really were 

They shall appear before your curious eyes. 
Mistress and maid ; the first was only daughter 
Of an old man, who lived upon the water. 



czxv. 

A fisherman he had been in his youth, 
And still a sort of fisherman was he ; 

But other speculation^ were, in sooth, 
Added to his connexion with the sea, 

Periiaps not so respectable, in truth : 
A little sniug«^ling, and some piracy. 

Left him, at hist, the sole of many masters 

Of an ill-gotten million of piastres. 



CXXVI. 

A fisher, therefore, was he, — though of men. 
Like Peter the A|)ostle, — and he fish'd 

For wandijring merchant -vessels, now and then. 
And sometimes cancr'nt as many as he wish'd; 

The carfTues he confiscated, and gain 

lie sought in the slave-market too, and dish'd 

Full many a morsel for that Turkish trade. 

By which, no doubt, a good deal may be made. 



xxxvn. 

He was a Greek, and on his isle had built 
(One of the wild and smaller Cyclades) 
A very handsome house from out his guilt, 
And there he lived exceedingly at ease ; 
Heaven knows, what casii he got or blood he spilty 
A sad old fellow was he, if you please ; 
But tbia I know, it was a spacvouB WMvii^, 
FkilJ of barbaric canring, paint, aad ^Adxa^. 



CAVTOB. DON JUAW* 01 



CXXVIU. 

He had an only daughter, call'd Haid^ 
The greatest heiress of the Eastern Islea 

Besides, so very beautiful was she, 

Her dowry was as nothing to her smiles : 

Still in her teens, and like a lovely tree 

She grew to womanhood, and between whilei 

Reject^ several suitors, just to learn 

How to accept a better in his turn. 



CZZIX. 

And walking out upon the beach, below 

The clitf, towards sunset, on that day she found. 

Insensible, — not dead, but nearly so, — 

Don Juan, almost tamishM, and half drown'd ; 

But being naked, she was shock'd, you know, 
/ Yet deeiii'd herself in common pity bound, 

As far as in her lay, " to take him in, 

A stranger " dying, with so white a skin. 



cxxx. 

But taking him into her father's house 
Was not exactly the best way to save. 

But like conveying to the cat the mouse, 
Or people in a trance into their grave ; 

Btr:«'jse the good old man had so much "yow," 
Unlike the honest Arab thieves so brave, 

Ho would have hospitably cured the stranger, 

And sold him instantly when out of danger. 



CXXXI. 

And therefore, with her maid, she thought it best 

(A virgin always on her maid relies) 
To place him in the cave for present rest : 

And when, at last, he openM his black eyes, 
iTheir charity increased about their guest ; 

And tljeir coinpassion grew to such a svze. 
It open 'd half the turnpike-gates to heaven — 
(St. Paid says, 't ia the toll which must W gw^uA 



02 DON JtTAN. 



CZZXII. 



They made a fire, — but such a fire as they 
Upon the moment could contrive with such 

Materials as were cast up round the bay,— - 

Some broken planks, and oars, that to the toaeh 

Were nearly tinder, since so long they lay 
A mast was almost crumbled to a crutch ; 

But, by God's grace, here wrecks were in such f^bntyp 

That there was fuel to have furnish'd twenty. 



cxxxni. 

He had a bed of furs, and a pelisse. 

For Haidee stripp'd her sables off to make 

His couch ; and, that he might be more at ease. 
And warm, in caso by chance he should awake, 

Thoy also gave a petticoat apiece, 

Sne and her maid, — and proniisod by daybreak 

To p.iy him a fresh visit, with a dish 

For breakfast, of eggs, coffee, bread, and fish. 



CXXXIV. 

And thus they left hira to his lone repose : 

Juan slept like a top, or like the dead, 
Who sleep at last, perhaps (God only knows). 

Just for the present ; and in his lulTd head 
Not even a vision of his former woes 

Throbb'd in accursed dreams, which sometimes spread 
Unwelcome visions of our Ibnner years. 
Till the eye, cheated, opens thick with tears. 



cxxxv. 

Young Juan slept all dreamless : — but the maid, 

Who smooth'd his pillow, as she left the den 
Look'd back upon him, and a moment stay'd, 
And turn'd, beh'eving that he calPd aj[r'»Jn. 
He slumberM ; yet she thought, at least she said 
(The heart will slip, even as the tongue and pen). 
He had pronounced her namo — bul ^e (ot^\. 
That at tbia moment Juan knew \l not. 



CAVW-B 1H>W JVAH. 



And pensive to her father's house she went, 

Enjoining silence strict to Zo§, who 
Better than her knew what, in facty'slie meant, 

She being wiser by a year or two : 
A year or two 's an age when rightly spent. 

And Zod spent hers, as most women do, 
In gaining all tliat useful sort of knowledge 
Which is acquired in Nature's good old college. 

cxjuLvn. 

The mom broke, and found Juan slumbering still 
Fast in his cave, and nothing clash'd upon 

His rest ; the rushing of the neighbouring rill. 
And the young l)eams of the excluded sun, 

Troubled him not, and he might sleep his iill ; 
And need he had of »hnnber vet, for none 

Had suffer'd more — his hardships were comparative 

To those related in my grand-dad's " Narrative." 

CXXXVIII. 

Not so Haid6e : she sadly toss'd and tumbled, 
And started from her sleep, and, turning o'er 

Dream'd of a thousand wrecks, o'er which she stumbled, 
And handsome corpses ?jlrew'd upon the shore ; 

And woke her maid so early that she gruml)led. 
And caird her father's old slaves up, who dwore 

In several oaths — Armenian, Turk, and Greek — 

They knew not what to think of such a freak. 

CXXXIX. 

But up she got, and up she riAade them get. 
With some pretence about the sun, that makes 

Sweet skies just when he risCvS, or is set ; 

And 't is, no doui)t, a sight to sec when breaks 

Bright Phoebus, while the mountains still arc wet 
With mist, and every bird with him awakea, 

And night is /lung otriikc a mourning suit 
Worn for a husband^ — or some other brute. 



M IH>N JUAH. 



CZL. 



I say, the sun is a most glorious sight, 
I 've seen him rise full oft, indeed of late 

I have sat up on purpose all the night. 

Which hastens, as physicians say, one's fate; 

And so all ye, who would be in the right 
In health and purse, begin your day to date 

From daybreak, and when coffiu'd at fourscore^ 

Engrave upon the plate, you rose at four. 



CXIJ. 

And Haid6c met the morning face to face ; 

Her own was freshest, though a feverish flush 
Had dyed it witli the headlong blood, whose race 

From heart to cheek is curl)M into a blush. 
Like to a torrent which a mountain's base, 

That ovcrpo>\ers some Alpine rivers rush, 
Checks to a lake, whose waves in circles spread ; 
Or the Red Sea — but the sea is not red. 



CXLII. 

And down the cliff the island viro:in came, 

And near the cave her quick liiiht footsteps drew, 

While the sun smiled on lier witii his first Hamc, 
And youn;i: Aurora kissM !ier lips with dew, 

Taking her for a sister; just tlie same 

IVlistake you would have made on sccuig the two 

Although the mortal, quite as fresh and fair. 

Had all tlie advantage, too, of not being air. 



CXLIII. 

And when into the cavern Haid6e stepp'd 

All timidly, yet rapidly, she saw 
That like an infant Juan sweetly slept ; 

And then she stopp'd, and stood as if in awe 
(For sleep is awful), and on tiptoe crept 

And wrapt him closer, lest the air, too raw, 
Should reach his blood, then o'er Vviui sWW ^a ^^^^ 
BcDt, with hush'd Ups, that drank Vu»acaicfc-AtvwTk\)<w«Sik 



■UnOB. DON JVASt* 



CXLTT. 



1 



And thus like to an angel o'er the dying 

Who die in righteoasness, she lean'd ; and there 

AU tranquilly the shipwreck'd boy was lying, 
As o'er him lay the calm and stirless air : 

But Zoe the meantime some eggs was frying, 
Since, after all, no doubt the youthful pair 

Must breakfast, and betimes — lest they should ask it. 

She drew out her provision from the basket 



CXLV. 

She knew that the best feelings must have victual, 
And that a shipwreck'd youth w'ould hungry be 
Besides, being less in love, she yawn'd a little. 
And felt her veins cliillM by the neighbouring sea 
\ And so, she cook'd their hreakfnst to a tittle; 

I can't say that she gave thf-m any tea, 
I But there were egg^^y fruit, collVe, broad, fish, honey, 

With Scio wine, — and all for love, not money. 



CXLVI. 

And Zoe. when the eggs were ready, and 

The coffee made, would fain have waken'd Juan ; 

But Haidee stopp'd her with her quirk small hand, 
And without word, a sij^n her finjror drew on 

Her lip, which Zoe needs innst understand ; 

And, the first breakfast spoilt, pref>ared a new one. 

Because her mistress would not let her break 

That sleep which seem'd as it would ne'er awake. 



CXLV II. 

For still he lay, and on his thin worn cheek 

A purple hectic playM like dying day 
On the snow-tops on distant hills ; the streak 

Of sufferance yet upon his forehead lay, 
Where the blue veins lookM shadowy, shrunk, and weak 

And his black curls uero dewy with t\w. s\>t\\y> 
Which weigh 'd upon them yet, all damp and e«At, 
■ jW/jtV mth the stony vapours of the vauU. 



DON IV AX. e4imii 



CZLVIII. 



And sne bent o'er him, and he lay beneath, 
Hush'd as the babe upon its mother'^ breast^ 

Droop'd as the willow when no winds can breathe^ 
LiiU'd like the depth of ocean when at rest. 

Fair as the crowning rose of the whole wreath. 
Soft as the callow cygnet in its nest ; 

In short, he was a very pretty fellow. 

Although his woes had turn'd him rather yellow. 



CXLIZ. 

lie woke and gazed, and would have. slept again. 
But the fair face which met his eyes forbade 

Those eyes to close, though weariness and pain 
Had further sleep a further pleasure made ; 

For woman's face was never form'd in vain 
For Juan, so that even when he pray'd 

He turn'd from grisly saints, and martyrs hairy. 

To the sweet portraits of the Virgin Mary. 



CL. 

And thus upon his elbow he arose. 

And look'd upon the lady, in whose cheek 

The pale contended with the purple rose, 
As with an ctTort she began to speak ; 

Her eyes were eloquent, her words would pose. 
Although she told him, in good modern Greeky 

With an Ionian accent, low and sweet. 

That he was faint, and must not talk, but eat* 



CLI. 

Now Juan could not understand a word. 
Being no Grecian ; but he had an ear, 

And her voice was the warble of a bird, 
So soft, so sweet, so delicately clear. 

That finer, simpler music ne'er was heard ; 
The sort of sound we echo with a tear. 

Without knowing why — an overpowering tone^ 

Whence Melody descends as from a throne. 



cAirroB. 



DOV xuAir. tV 



nLn. 

And Juan gazed as one who is awoke 
By a distant organ, doubting if he be 

Not yet a dreamer, till the spell is broke 
By the watchman, or some such reality. 

Or by one's early valet's cursed knock ; 
At least it is a heavy sound to me. 

Who like a morning slumber *— for the night 

Shows stars and women in a better light. 



CLin. 

And Juan, too, was help'd out from his dream. 
Or sleep, or whatsoe'er it was, by feeling 

A most prodigious appetite : the steam 
Of Zoo's cookery no doubt was stealing 

Upon his sonscs, and the kindling beam 

Of the new fire, which Zoe kept up, kneeling, 

To stir her viands, made him quite awake 

And long for food, but chieHy a beef-stealc. 



CLIV. 

But beef is rare within these oxiess isles ; 

Goat's flesh there is, no doubt, and kid, and mutton ; 
And, when a holiday upon them smiles, 

A joint upon their barbarous spits they put on : 
But this occurs but seldom, between whiles. 

For some of these are rocks with scarce a hut on, 
Others are fair and fertile, among which 
This, though not large, was one of the most rich. 



CLV. 

1 eay that beef is rare, and can't help thinking 
That the old fable of the Minotaur — 

From which our modern morals, rightly shrinking. 
Condemn the royal lady's taste who wore 

A cow's shape for a mask — was only (sinking 
The allegory) a mere type, no more, 

That Pasiphae promoted breeding cattle. 

To "^ike the Cretans bloodier in battle. 



09 1>01f JUAN. 



CLVI. 



For we all know that English people are 
Fed upon beef — I won't say much of beer. 

Because 't is liquor only, and being far 

From this my subject, bus no business here , 

We know, too, they are very fond of war 

A pleasure — like all pleasures — rather dear ; 

So were the Cretans — from which I infer 

That beef and battles both were owing to her. 



CLvn- 

But to resume. The languid Juan raised 
His head upon his en)ow, and he saw 

A sight on which he had not lately gazed. 
As all his latter meals had been quite raw, 

Three or four things for which the Lord he praised. 
And, feeling still the famish'd vulture gnaw. 

He fell upon whate'er was ofler'd, like 

A priest, a shark, an alderman, or pike. 



CLVin. 

He ate, and he was well supplied : and she, 

Who watch'd him like a mother, would have fed 

Him past all hounds, because she smiled to see 
Such ap|)etite in one she had deem'd dead : 

But Zoe, being older than Haidee, 

Knew ([)y tradition, for she ne'er had read) 

That famish'd people must be slowly nurst. 

And fed by spoonfub, else they always burst. 



CLIX. 

And so she took the liberty to state, 

Rather by deeds than words, because the case 
Was urgent, that the gentleman, whose fate 

Had made her mistress quit her bed to trace 
The sea-shore at this hour, must leave his plate* 

Unless he wish'd to die upon the place — 
She snatch'd it, and refused another morsel. 
Saying, he had gorged enough to make a horse ill. 



MMtC a. 



D02< JUAN. W 



CLZ* 



Next they — he being nake<L save a tatter'd 

Pair of scarce decent trow^ers — went to work^ 

And in the fire his recent rags they scatterM, 
And dress'd him, for t[ie present, hke a Turk, 

Or Greek — that is, although it not much matter'dy 
Omitting turban, shppers, pistols, dirk, — 

They furnish'd him, entire, except some stitches, 

With a clean shirt, and very spacious breeches. 

\ 

CLXI. 

And theh fair Haidee tried her tongue at speaking 
But not a word could Juan comprehend. 

Although he listen'd so that the young Greek iufr 
Her earnestness would ne'er have made an end , 

And, as he interrupted not, went eking 
Her speech out to lier protege and iViend, 

Till pausing at the last lier breatli to take, 

She saw he did not understand Rouiaic. 



CLXII. 

And then she had recourse to nods, and signs. 
And smiles, and sparkles of the s[)eaking eye, 

And read (the only book she could) the lines 
Of his fair face, and found, by syrnpatliy. 

The answer eloquent, where the soul shines 
And darts in one quick glance a long reply ; 

And thus in every look she saw expressed 

A world of words, and things at which she guess'd. 



CLXIII. 

And now, by dint of fingers and of eyes, 
And words repeated after her, he took 

A lesson in her tongue ; but by surmise, 

No doubt, less of her language than her look : 

As he who studies fervently the skies 

Turns oftener to the stars than to his book, 

Thus Juan learn'd his alpha beta better 

From Uaidee's glance than any graven letter* 



too DOS JVAsr. 



*r is pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue 
By female lips and eyes — that is, I mean. 

When both the teacher and the taught are young. 
As was the case, at least, where i have been ; 

They smile so when one's right, and when one's wrong 
They smile still more, and then there intervene 

Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste 

I learn'd the little that I know by this : 



CLXV. 

That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek, 

Italian not at all, having no teachers, 
Much English I cannot |>retcnd to speak, 

Learniiiir that lanjruaire chiefly from its preachers^ 
Barrow, South, Tillotson, wlioui every week 

I study, also Blair, the highest reacliers 
Of eloquence in piety and prose — 
I hate your poets, so read none of those. 



As for the ladies, I liave nought to say, 

A wanderer from the Britisii world of fashion. 

Where I, like other '* dogs, have had my day," 
Like other men, too, uiay have had my passion - 

But that, like other thinirs, has pass'd away, 
And all her fools whoui I could lay the lash on : 

Foes, friends, men, women, now are nougiit to me 

But dreams of what has been, no more to be. 



CLXVII. 

Return we to Don Juan. He begun 

To hear new words, and to repeat them ; but 

Some teelings, universitl as the sun. 

Were such as could not in his breast be shut 

More than within the bosom of a nun : 

He was in love, — as you would be, no doubt 

With a young benclactress, — so vraa a\«. 
Just in ibo way we very often see. * 



LAXTOn. 



DON JUAN. IIM 



cLxvm. 



And erery day by daybreak — rather early 
For Juan, who was somewhat fond of rest — 

She came into the cave, but it was merely 
To see her bird reposing in his nest ; 

And she would softly stir his locks so curly, 
Without disturbing her yet slumbering guest. 

Breathing all gently o'er his cheek and mouth, 

As o'er a bed of roses the sweet south. 



CLXIX. 

And every morn his colour freshlier came. 
And every day help'd on his convalescence ; 

T was well, because health in the human frame 
Is pleasant, besides being true love's essence, 

For ht^alth and idleness to passion's flame 

Are oil and gunpowder ; and some good lessons 

Are also learnt from Ceres and from Bacchus, 

Without whom Venus will not long attack us. 



CLXX. 

While Venus fills the heart, (witjioiit heart really 
Love, though good always, Is not quite so good,) 

Ceres presents a plate of veriiuc(;lli, — 

For love must be sustainM like flesh and blood, — 

While Bacchus pours out w inc, or hands a jelly : 
Eggs, oysters, too, are auialoi^ food ; 

But who is their purveyor from above 

Heaven knows, — it may be Neptune, Pan, or Jove. 



CLXXI. 

When Juan woke he found some good things ready, 
A bath, a breakfast, and the finest eyes 

That ever made a youthful heart less steady. 
Besides her maid's, as pretty for their size; 

But I iiave spoken of all this already — 
And repetition 's tiresome and unwise,— 

^oJI — Juan, after bathing in the sea, 
Came always back to coffee and Haid6e, 



lllSI DOH JUAN. 



rTiXXTT. 



Both were so youDg, and one so innocent. 
That bathing pass'd for nothing ; Juan seem'd 

To her, as 't were, the kind of being sent. 

Of whom these two years she had nightly dream'^ 

A something to be loved, a creature meant 
To be her happiness, and whom she deem'd 

To render happy ; all who joy would win 

Must share it, — Happiness was born a twin. 



It was such pleasure to behold him, such 
Enlargement of existence to partake 

Nature with him, to thrill beneath his touch. 

To watch him sluml)ering, and to see him wake : 

To live with him for ever were too much ; 

But th<^n the thought of parting made her quake : 

He was her own, her ocean-treasure, cast 

Like a rich wreck — her first love, and her last* 



CLXXIV. 



And thus a moon roll d on, and fair Haidde 
Paid daily visits to her bov, and took 

Such plentiful precautions, that still he 

Remain'd unknown within his craggy nook; 

At last her tatlier's prows put out to sea. 
For certain merchantmen upon the look, 

Not as of yore to carry off an lo, 

But three Ragusan vessels, bound for Scio. 



CLXXV. 

Then came her freedom, for she had no mothery 

So that, her father being at sea, she was 
Free as a married woman, or such other 

Female, as where she likes may freely pass, 
Without even the incumbrance of a brother. 
The freest she that ever gazed on glass : 
I speak of Christian lands in this com^axiBoa, 
Where wiveB, at least, aie Bekdomkev^ Va f^xnaoft^ 



DON JUAN. lOd 



CLXXVI. 



Now she prolonged her visits and her talk 

^For they must talk), and he had learnt to say 

So much as to propose to take a walk, — 
For little had he wander'd since the day 

On which, like a young flower snapp'd from the stalk* 
Drooping and dewy on the beach he lay, — 

And thus they walk'd out in the afternoon, 

And saw the sun set opposite the moon. 



cLxxvn. 

It was a wild and breaker-beaten coast, 

With cliffs above, and a broad sandy shore, 

Guarded by shoals and rocks as by an host, 

With here and there a creek, whose aspect wore 

A better welcome to the temj)est-toss'd ; 

And rarely ceased the haufljhty billow's roar. 

Save on the dead long summer days, which make 

The outstretch'd ocean glitter like a lake. 



CLXXVIII. 

And the small ripple spilt upon the beach 

Scarcely o'erpassM the cream of your champagne, 

VV^hen o'er the brim the sparkling bumpers reach, 
That spring-dew of the spirit ! the heart's rain ! 

Few things surpass old wine ; and they may preach 
Who please, — the more because they preach in vain, 

Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter. 

Sermons and soda-water the day after. 



CLXXIX. 

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk ; 

The best of life is but intoxication : 
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk 
The hopes of all men, and of every nation ; 
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk 

On'ife^s strange tree, so fruitful on occasion; 
But to return, — Get very drunk ; and wVien 
Tou wake with headach, you shall see what Ibeiu 



]0i DON JUAN. C4ir-o n 



CLXXX. 

Ring for your valet — bid him quickly bring 
Some hock and soda-watcT, then vou '11 know 

A pleasure worthy Xnrxes the great king; 

For not the blest sherbet, subhmed with snow. 

Nor the first sparkle of the desert-spring, 
Nor Burijandv in all its sunset jjlow, 

After long iravcl, ennui, love, or slaughter, 

Vie with that draught of hock and soda-water. 



CLXXXI. 

The coast — I think it was the coast that 1 

Was just describing — Yes, it was the coast — 

Lay at this period (juiet as the sky, 

The sands untuinliled, tlu» blue waves untossM, 
And all was stillness, save the sea-hird's cry, 

And dolphin's leap, and little hillow cross'd 
By some low rock or shelve, that made it fret 
Against the boundary it scarcely wet. 



CLXXXII. 

And forth they wander'd, her sire being gone. 
As 1 have said, upon an expedition ; 

And motlier, brother, guardian, she had none, 
Save Zoe, who, although with due precision 

She wailed on her lady with the sun, 

Thouiiht dailv service was her oiilv mission. 

Bringing warm water, wreathing her long tresses, 

And askinor now and then for cast-off dresses. 



CLxxxin. 

It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded 

Red sun sinks down liehind the azure hill, 
Which then seems as if the whole earth it bounded. 

Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still. 
With the far mountain-crescent, half surrounded 
On one side^ and the deep sea calm viud chill 
Upon ibe other, and the rosy sky, 
With one star sparkling througVi *\t \i^5» wv ^y^. 



CAinoiL DON JUAIf. 105 



GLXXZIV. 

And thus they wander'd forth, and hand in hand, 
Over the shining pebbles and the shells, 

Glided along the smooth and harden'd sand, 
And in the worn and wild receptacles 

Work'd by the storms, yet work'd as it were plann'd. 
In boUow hails, with sparry roofs and cells, 

They turn'd to rest ; and, each clasp'd by an arm, 

Yielded to the deep twilight's purple charm. 



CLXXXV. 

They look'd up to the sky, whose floating glow 
Spread like a rosy ocean, vast and bright ; 

They gazed upon the glittering sea below, 

VVhcnce the broad moon rose circling into sight, 

They heard the waves splash, and the wind so low, 
And saw each other's dark eyes darting light 

Into each other — and, beholdin<j this, 

Their lips drew near, and clung into a kiss ; 

CLXXXVI. 

A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth, and love, 
And beauty, all concentrating like rays 

Into one focus, kindled from above ; 
Such kisses as belong to early days, 

Where heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move, 
And the blood's lava, and the pulse a blaze. 

Each kiss a heart-quake, — for a kiss's strength, 

I think, it must be reckon'd by its length. 



CLXXXVII. 

By length I mean duration ; theirs endured 

Heav.^n knows how long — no doubt they never reckoned j 

And if they had, they could not have securpxl 
The sum of their sensations to a second : 

They had not spoken ; but they felt allured. 
As if their sou]s and lips each other beckon* Oi, 

Which, being join'df like swarming bees they c\uiv^ — 
Their heartif tlie flowers from whence the Uoufiy si^tMW^* 



100 DON JUAX* CAIRO lb 



cLzzxvm. 

They were alone, but not alone as they 
Who shut in chambers think it loneliness; 

The silent ocean, and the starlight bay. 

The twilight glow, which momently grew lesB, 

The voiceless sands, and dropping caves, that lay 
Around them, made them to each other press. 

As if there were no life beneath the sky 

Save theirs, and that their life could never die. 



CLXXXDC. 

Tliey fear'd no eyes nor ears on that lone beach, 
They felt no terrors from the night, they were 
All in all to each other : though their speech 
_ Was hrukeii words, they thouirht a language there 
^And all the luirnin;^: tongues the piis>ion6 teach 

Found in one sigh the best interpreter 
Of nature's oracle — tirst love, — that all 
Which Eve has left her daughters since her fall.J 



cxc. 

Ilaidee spoke not of scruples, ask'd no vows. 
Nor otierM anv ; she had never heard 

Of plight and proinis<^s to l)e a spouse, 
Or perils by a loving inaiJ incurred ; 

She was all which pure ignorance allows. 

And flew to her voung mate like a younff bird; 

And, never having dreamt of falsehood, she 

Had not one word to say of constancy. 



cxci. 

She loved, and was beloved — she adored. 

And she was worshipped ; after nature's fashion. 
Their intense souls, into each other pour'd, 

If souls could die, had perish'd in that passion,-^ 
But by degrees their senses were restored. 
Again to be o'ercome, agiiin to dash on ; 
And, heating 'gainst his bosom, Vlav(i^c[*a\^QSitV 
Felt as if never more to beat apatl. 



tUnrs B. DON JUAIf. 1C7 



cxcn. 

Alas ' they were so young, so beautiful. 
So lonely, loving, helpless, and the hour 

Was that in which the heart is always full, 
And, having o'er itself no further power, 

Prompts deeds eternity cannot annul, 

But pays off moments in an endless shower 

Of hell-fire — all prepared for people giving 

Pleasure or pain to one another living. 



cxcin. 

Alas ? for Juan and Haid6e ! they were 
So loving and so lovely — till then never, 

Excepting our first parents, such a pair 
Had run the risk of being darnnM for ever 

And Haidee, being devout as well as fair, 

Had, doubtless, heard about the Stygian river, 

And hell and purgatory — but forgot 

Just in the very crisis she should not. 



• ex CIV. 

They look upon each other, and their eyes 

Gleam in the moonlijifbt ; and her white arm clasp* 

Round Juan's head, and bis around her lies 
Half buried in the tresses wl)icb it grasps; 

She sits upon bis knee, and drinks his sighs. 
He hers, until they end in broken gasps; 

And thus they form a cn)up that 's quite antique, 

Half naked, loving, natural, and Greek. 



cxcv. 

And when those deep and burning moments passM, 
And Juan sunk to sleep within her arms. 

She slept not, but all tenderly, though fast. 
Sustain'd his head upon her bosom's charms ; 

And now and then her eye to heaven is cast, 

And then on the pale cheek her breast tvov? ^^Ttfv% 

Pillowed on her o'er/?owing heart, which pants 
With all it granted, and with all it graT\t8. 



108 DON JUAN. 



cxcn* 



An infont when it gazes on a light, 

A child the moment when it drains the hrpast» 

A devotee when soars the Host in sight. 
An Arah with a stranger for a guest, 

A sailor when the prize h:is stnick in fight, 
A miser filling his most hoarded chest, 

Feel rapture ; but not such true joy are reaping 

As they who watch o'er what they love while sleoping* 



CXCVII. 

For there it lies so tranquil, so heloved, 
All that it hath of life with us is living ; 

So gentle, stirless, helpless, and unmoved, 
And all unconscious of the joy 't is giving; 

A.11 it hfitli felt, intlictcd, passM, and proved, 

Husli'd into depths beyond the watcher's diving; 

TT.iere lies the thing we love with all its errors, 

And all its charms, like death without its terrors. 



cxcvni. • 

The ladv watch 'd her lover — and that hour 
Of Love's, and Night's, and Ocean's solitude, 

O'ertlow'd her soul with their united power ; 
Amidst the barren sand and rocks so rude 

She and her wave-worn love hud made their bower. 
Where nought upon their passion could intrude, 

And all the stars that crowded the blue space 

Saw nothing happier than her glowing face. 



CXCTX. 

Alas ? the love of women ! it is known 

To be a lovely and a fearful thing ; 
For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, 

And if *t is lost, life hath no more to bring 
To them but mockeries of the past alone. 

And their revenge is as the tiger's spring, 
Deadly f and quick, and crushmg •, yel, as tcbX 
Torture is theirs, what they inftvct lYie^ feeV 



UatOtL DON JUAN. 100 



GO. 

They are right ; for man, to man so oft unjuet, 
U always so to women ; one sole bond 

Awaits them, treachery is all their trust ; 

Taught to conceal, their bursting hearts despond 

Over their idol, till some wealthier lust 

Buys them in marriage — and what rests beyond f 

A thankless husband, next a faithless lover, 

Then dressing, nursing, praying, and all 's over* 



CGI. 



Some take a lover, some take drams or prayers, 
Some mind their household, others dissipation. 

Some run away, and but exchange their cares. 
Losing the advantage of a virtuous station ; 

Few changes e'er can better their atiUirs, 
Theirs being an unnatural situation, 

From the dull palace to the dirty hovel : 

Some play the devil, and then write a novel. 



ecu* 

IIaid6e was Nature's bride, and knew not this ; 

Haidee was Passion's child, born where the sun 
Showers triple light, and scorches even the kiss 

Of his gazelle-eyed daughters ; she was one 
Made but to love, to feel that she was liis 

Who was her chosen : what was said or done 
Elsewhere was nothing. — She had nought to fear, 
Uope, carcy nor love, beyond, her heart beat here. 

cciu. 

And oh ! that quickening of the heart, that beat ! 

How much it costs us ! yet each rising throb 
Is in its cause as its effect so sweet. 

That Wisdom, ever on the watch to rob 
Joy of its alchymy, and to repeat 

Fine truths ; even Conscience, too, has a loM^U yA^ 
To make us understand each good old maxxm^ 
80 good — / wonder Castiereagh do nH tax^eia. 



I 10 DOK UTAH. 



UCIV* 



And now 't was done — on the lone shore were pBghled 

Their hearts ; the stars, their nuptial torches» abed 
Beauty upon th^ beautiful they lighted : 

Ocean their witness, and the cave their bed. 
By their own feelings hallow'd and united, 

iTheir priest was Solitude, and they were wed • 
And they were happy, for to their young eyes 
it Each was an angel, and earth paradise. | 



ccv. 

Oh, Love ! of whom great Caesar was tiie 8ailor» 
Titus the master, Antony the slave, 

Horace, Catullus, scholars, Ovid tutor, 

Siippho the sage blue-stocking, in whose grave 

All those may leap who rather would be neuter — 
(Leucadia's rock still overlooks the wave) — 

Oh, Love! thou art the very god of evil. 

For, after all, we cannot call thee devil. 



ccvi. 

Thou mak'st the chaste connubial state precarious, 
And jestost with the brows of mightiest men : 

Caesar and Pompey, Mahomet, Belisarius, 

Have much employ'd the mus^e of history's pen ; 

Their lives and fortunes were extremely various. 
Such wortiiies Time will never see attain ; 

Yet to these four in three things the same luck holds. 

They all were heroes, conquerors, and cuckolds. 



ccvn. 

Thou mak'st philosophers ; there 's Epicurus 

And Aristippus, a material crew ! 
Who to immoral courses would allure us 

By theories quite practicable too ; 
If only from the devil they would insure us. 

How pleasant were the maxim (not quite new), 
''Eat, drinkf and love, what can tWe Teal ^n^ ^Qa\'' 
So said the royal sage Sardana^us. 



DON JUAN. Ill 



ccvin. 



>i 



y'ji - But Juim ! had he quite forgotten Julia? 
-^ And should he have forgotten her so soon ^ 
I can't but say it seems to mc most truly a 

Perplexing question ; but, no doubt, the moon 
Does these things for us, and whenever newly a 

Palpitation rises, 't is her boon, 
Else how the devil is it. that fresh features 
Have such a charm for us poor human creatureit 

ccix. 

I hate inconstancy — I loathe, detest. 
Abhor, condemn, abjure the mortal made 

Of such quicksilver clay that in his breast 
No permanent foundation can be laid ; 

Love, constant lovo, has been my constant guest, 
And yet last night, being at a masquerade, 

I saw the prettiest creature, fresh from Milan, 

Which gave me some sensations like a villain* 



ccx. 

But soon Philosophy came to my aid. 

And whisper'd, "Think of every sacred tie ! " 

** I will, my dear Philosophy ! " I said, 

"But then her teeth, and then, oh. Heaven ! her eye! 

I '11 just inquire if slie be wife or maid. 
Or neither — out of curiosity." 

" Stop ! " cried Philosophy, with air so Grecian, 

(Though she was mask'd then as a fair Venetian ;) 



CCXl. 

«* Stop ! " so I st^p'd. — But to return : that which 
Men call inconstancy is nothing more 

Than admiration due where nature 's rich 
Profusion with young beauty covers o'er 

Some favour'd object; and as in the niche 
A lovely statue we almost adore, 

This Bort of adoration of the real 
1b but a heightening of the ** beau ideal*** 



IIS DOS juAjr. 



T is the perception of the beaatifvl, 

A fine extension of the facultiesy 
Platonic, universal, wonderful, 

Drawn from the stars, and filter'd through the tkV 
Without which life would be extremely dull ; 

In short, it is the use of our own eyes. 
With one or two small senses added, just 
To hint that flesh is form'd of fiery dusL 



ccxin. 

Yet 't is a painful feeling, and unwilling, 
For surely if we always could perceire 

In the same object graces quite as killing 
As when she ruse upon us like an Eve, 

T would save us many a heart-ache, many a shillings 
(For we must get them any how, or grieve,) 

Whereas if one sole lady pleas^ for ever, 

How pleasant for the heart, as well as liver ! 



ccxiv. 

The heart is like the sky, a part of heaven. 
But changes night and d.iy, too, like the sky , 

Now o'er it clouds and thunder must be driven, 
And darkness and destruction as on high : 

But when it hath been scorchVl, and pierced, and r.veni 
Its storms expire in water-drops; the eye 

Pours forth at last the heart's blood turn'd to tearaii 

W^hich make the English climate of our years. 



ccxv. 

The liver is the lazaret of bile, ^ 

But very rarely executes its function, 
For the first passion stays there such a while. 

That all the rest creep in and form a junction, 
Like knots of vipers on a dunghill's soil. 

Rage, fear, hate, jealousy, revenge, compunction, 
80 that all mischiefs spring up from this entraiS, 
Like earthquakes from the hidden ^tq ci^Wd ^ cenXt^, 



civroB. 



DOir JVAN. 



113 



In tbe mean time, withoot proceeding more 
In this anatomy, I 've finish'd now 

Two hundred and odd stanzas as before. 
That being about the number I '11 allow 

Each canto of the twelve, or twenty-four ; 
And, laying down my pen, I make my bow^ 

Leaving Don Juan and Haid6e to plead 

For them and theirs with all who deign to read* 



117 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THIS THIRD. 



I. 

Hail, Muse ! et eaiera. — We kfl Juan sleepingi 
Pillow'd upoD a fair and happy breast, 

And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weepingt 
And loved by a young heart, too deeply bless'd 

To feel the poison through her spirit creeping, 
Or know who rested there, a foe to rest, 

Had soil'd the current of iier sinless years, 

And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears ! 



Oh, Love ! what is it in this world of ours 
Which makes it fatal to l>e loved ? Ah why 

With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, 
And mad^ thy best interpreter a sigli ? 

And those who doat on odours pluck the flowers, 

And place them on their breast — but place to die — 

Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish 

Are laid within our bosoms but to perish. 



III. 

In her first passion woman loves her lorer, 
In all the others all she loves is love. 

Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over, 
And tits her loosely — like an easy glove. 

As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her 
One man alone at first her heart can move \ 

8he then prefers him in the plural number, 
Aot Sndwg that the additions much encuxnVie:. 



DOH jVAir. CAsrro 



nr. 



I know not if the fault be men's or theirs ; 

But one thing 's pretty sure ; a woman planted 
(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers) — 

Af^er a decent time must be gallanted ; 
Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs 

Is that to which her heart is wholly granted ; 
Tet there are some, they say, who have had fumSf 
But those who have ne'er end with only one. 



V. 



T is melancholy, and a fearful sign 

Of human frailty, folly, also crime, 
That love and marriage rarely can combine. 

Although they both are Iwrn in the same clime ; 
Marriajje from love, like vinejrar from wine — 

A sad, sour, sober beverage — by time 
Is sharpeiiM from its high celestial flavour 
Down to a very homely household savour. 



VI. 

There 's something of antipathy, as 't were. 
Between their present and their future state ; 

A kind of flattery that 's hardly fair 

Is used until the truth arrives too late — 

Yet what can people do, except desj)air? 

The same things change their names at such a rate. 

For instance — passion in a lover 's glorious, 

But in a husband is pronounced uxorious. 



vn. 

Men grow ashamed of being so very fond ; 

Thev sometimes also cet a little tired 
(But that, of course, is rare), and then despond : 

The same things cannot always be admired. 
Yet 't is " so nominated in the bond," 

That both are tied till one shall have expired* 
Sad thought I to lose the ta^pouse lYval ^ba ^^ottlvt^ 
Oar days, and put one's aerrauta mto ii»yiiTtidn:^« 



was jujjr. 117 



VZII* 



There 'a doubtlen something in domeetic doinge 

Which forma, io fact, true love'a antitheaia ; 
Romancea paint at full length people'a wooingay 

But only give a buat of marriagea ; 
For no one carea for matrimonial cooinffs. 
There' a nothing wrong in a connubied kiaa : 
iTIiink youy if Laura had been Petrarch'a wifo^ 
V He would have written sonnets all his life T 



iz. 

JUl tragediea are finiah'd by a death, 
Y All comedies are ended by a marriage ; 
The future states of lx>th are left to faith. 

For authors fear description min;ht disparage 
The worlds to come of both, or fiill Ixineath, 

And then lx>th worlds would punish their miscarriage , 
So leaving each their priest and prayer- hook ready, 
They say no more of Death or of the Lady. 



X. 

The only two that in mv recollection 

Have sunpr of heaven and hell, or marriage, are 

Dante and Milton, and of l)oth the affection 
Was hupless in their nuptials, for some bar 

Of fault or temper ruiu'd the connexion 

(Such things, in fact, it do n't ask much to mar) ; 

But Dante's Beatrice and Milton's Eve 

Were not drawn from their spouses, you conceive. 



XI. 

Some persons say that Dante meant theology 
By Beatrice, and not a mistress — T, 

Although my opinion may require apology, 
Deem tiiis a comuientator's phantasy. 

Unless indeed it was from his own knowledge he 
Decided thus, and show'd good reason w\\y \ 

J thiak that Dnnte^B more abstruse ecstat'vca 
Meant to persoaify tlie mathcinautSr- 



118 DON JUAir. 



Haid6e and Juan were not married, bat 

The fault was theirs, not mine : it is not fiur^ 

Chaste reader, then, in any way to put 

The blame on me, unless you wish they were ; 

Then if you 'd have them w^ded, please to shut 
The book which treats of this erroneous pair. 

Before the consequences grow too awful ; 

'T is dangerous to read of loves unlawful. 



zni. 

Yet they were happy, — happy in the illicit 

Indulgence of their innocent desires ; 
But more imprudent grown with every visit, 

Haid^e for^xot the islan'l wns her sire's; 
Wlicn ue have what ue like, 't is hard to miss it, 

At least in the beginniiijr, ere one tires; 
Thus she came often, not a moment losing, 
Whilst her piratical papa was cruising. 



XIV. 



Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange. 
Although he fleeced the flairs of every nation, 

For into a prime minister hut change 
Ills title, and 't is nothing hut taxation ; 

But he, more modest, touk an humbler range 
Of life, and in an honestcr vocation 

Pursued o'er the high seas his watery journey. 

And merely practised as a sea-attorney. 



XV. 

rhe good old gentleman had been detain'd 

By winds and waves, and some important captures 
And, in the hope of more, at sea remain'd. 

Although a squall or two had damp'd his raptures. 
By swamping one of the prizes ; he had chain'd 

His prisoners, dividing them like chapters 
la numbered lots ; they all had cuffs and collars^ 
And aFeraged_e^^'fr6iii ten to & Vkundxed d$:{*^^axa 



DOV JUAV. 119 



Some he diapoied of off Cape Matapan, 
Amone his friends the Mainots ; Bome he mM 

To his Tunis correspondents, save one man 
Toss'd overboard unsaleable (being old) ; 

The rest — save here and there some richer one^ 
Reserved for future ransom in the hold, 

Were link'd alike, as for the common people he 

Had a large order from the Dey of Tripoli* 



The merchandise was served in the same way. 
Pieced out for different marts in the Levant, 

Except some certain portions of the prey. 
Light classic articles of female want, 

Froucli stutTs, luce, tweezers, toothpicks, teapot, tray, 
Giiiturs and ca$t:inets from Alicant, 

All which selected from the spoil he gathers, 

Robb'd for his daugliter by the best of fathers. 



XVIII. 

A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw, 
Two parrots, with a Persian cat and kittens. 

He chose from several animals he saw — 

A terrier, too, which once had been a Briton's, »/ 

Who dying on the coast of Ithaca, 

The peasants gave the poor dumb thing a pittance ; 

These to secure in this strong blowing weather. 

He caged in one huge hamper altogether. 



XIX. 

Then having settled his marine affairs 

Despatching single cruisers here and there, 

His ve5$scl having need of some repairs, 

Hff shaped his course to where his daughter fair 

Continued still her hospitable cares; 

But that part of the coast being shoal and V^qlt^^ 

And rough with reefs which ran out many a rnvXe, 
Hiaport Uy on the other side o* the iate. 



190 DOV JUAN. 



And there he went ashore without dday, 
HaTiBg no custom-house nor quarantine 

To ask him awkward questions on the way 
About the time and place where he had been : 

He lefl his ship to be hove down next day. 
With orders to the people to careen ; 

So that all hands were busy beyond ineasurey 

^n getting out goods, ballast, guns, and treamue 



Arriving at the summit of a hill 

Which overlook'd ,the white walls of his homoy 
He stoppM. — What singular emotions (ill 

Their bosoms who have l)een induced to roam! 
With Ihittering doubts if all be well or ill — 

With lovo for many, and with fears for some ; 
All feelings which o'erleap the years long lost. 
And bring our hearts back to their startiog-post 

XXII. 

The approach of home to husba'nds and to sires, 
After long travelling by land or water, 

Most naturally some small doubt inspires — 
A female family 's a serious matter ; ♦ 

(None trusts the sex more, or so much admires — 
But they hate flattery, so I never flatter ;) 

Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler, 

And daughters sometimes run ofl* with the butler* 



xxm. 

^An honest gentleman at his return 
^ May not have the good fortune of Ulysses ; 
Not all lone matrons for their husbands mourn. 

Or show the same dislike to suitors' kisses ; 
The odds are that he finds a handsome urn 

To his memory — and two or three young misaefl 
Born to some friend, who holds bia wvCe ^xA richea^^ 
4jid that his Argus bites lum \sh — l\i^ \ff%«K^i«^ 



CiTfTOin. 



DON JUAlf. 131 



xxnr. 



If single, probably his pli«rbted fair 

Has in his absence wedded some rich miser , 
But all the better, for the happy pair 

May quarrel, and the lady growing wiser. 
He may resume his amatory care 

As cavalier servente, or despise her ; 
And that his sorrow may not be a dumb one. 
Write odes on the Inconstancy of Woman. 



XXV. 

And oh ! ye gentlemen who have already 
Some chaste liaison of the kind — I mean 

An honest friendship with a married lady — 
The only thing of this sort ever seen 

To last — of all connexions the most steady, 

And the true Hymen, (the first 's but a screen)-^ 

Yet for all that keep not too lon«i: away, 

I 've known the absent wrong'd four times a day.*^ 



XXVI. 

Lambro, our sea-solicitor, who had 

Much less experience of dry land than ocean, 

On seeing his own chimney-smoke, felt glad ; 
But not knowing metaphysics, had no notion 

Of the true reason of his not being srid. 
Or that of any other strong emotion ; 

He loved his child, and would luive wept the loss of her 

But knew the cause no more than a philosopher. 

XXVII. 

He saw his white walls shming in the sun, 
His garden trees all shadowy and green; 

He heard his rivulet's light bul)bling run, 

The distant dog-bark ; and perceived between 

The umbrage of the wood so cool and dun 
The movin;^ fifrures, and the sparkVing s\\eeT\ 

Of arms (in the East all arm) — and various d^ 
Of cohar'd garbs, as bright as butterflies. 



139 DOir jVAir. 



zznn. 



And as the spot where they appear he nears, 
Surprised at these unwonted signs of idling. 

He hears — alas ! no music of the spheres, 
But an unhailow'd, earthly sound of fiddling! 

A melody which made him doubt his ears. 

The cause being past his guessing or unriddling , 

A pipe, too, and a drum, and shortly after, 

A most unoriental roar of laughter. 



And still more nearly to the place advancing, 

Descending rather quickly the declivity, [ing 

Through the waved branches, o'er the greensward glanc 
'Midst other indications oftestivity. 

Seeing a troop of his domestics dancing 
Like dervises, who turn as on a pivot, he 

Perceived it was the Pyrrhic dance so martial 

To which the Levantines are very partial. 



XXX. 

And further on a group of Grecian girls, 

The first and tallest her white kerchief waving. 

Were strung together like a row of pearls, 

Link'd hand in hnnd, and dancing ; each too having 

Down her white neck long floating auburn curls — 
(The least of which would set ten poets raving); 

Their leader sang — and bounded to her song. 

With choral step and voice, the virgin throng. 



XXXI. 

And here, assembled cross-legg'd round their trayi. 

Small social parties just begun to dine ; 
Pilaus and meats of all sorts met the gaze. 

And flasks of Samian and of Chian wine, 
And sherbet cooling in the porous vase ; 

Above them their dessert grew on its vine. 
The orange and pomegranate noddmg^ o^^x 
Dropped in their laps* scarce pVucVd, IV^vt tem^o^ >&fa^ 



CASIO CL 



DON JUA2f. 129 



A band of children, round a snow-white ram. 
There wreathe his venerable horns with flowers ; 

While peaceful as if still an unwean'd lamb, 
The patriarch of the flock all gently cowers 

His sober head, majestically tame, 

Or eats from out the palm, or playful lowers 

His brow, as if in act to butt, and then, 

Yielding to their small hands, draws back again* 



xxxui* 

Their classical profiles, and glittering dresses, 
Their large black eyes, and soft seraphic cheeks, 

Crimson as cleft pomcg-ranates, their long tresses. 
The ijesture wliich enchants, the eye that speaks, 

The innocence whicli happy childhood blesses, 
Made quite a picture ot* these httle Greeks ; 

So that the philosophical l)eholder 

Sigh'd for their sakes — that they should e'er grow older. 



XXXIV. 

Afar, a dwarf buffoon stood tellin2 tales 
To a sedate gray circle of old smokers 

Of secret treasures found in hiddi^n vales, 
Of won<lerful replies from Anih jokers, 

Of charms to inakt' ;5ood gold and cure had ails. 
Of rocks hewitch'd that open to the knockers, 

Of magic ladies who, by one sole act, 

Transibrm'd their lords to beasts (but that 's a fact)« 



XXXV. 

Here was no lack of innocent diversion 

For the imagination or the senses. 
Song, dance, wine, music, stories from the Persian, 

All pretty pastinu^s in which no otTence is; 
But Lambro saw all these things with aversion. 

Perceiving in his absence such expenses. 
Dreading that climnx of all human ills, 
The iDBammation of his weekly hklls. 



I'M DOir jUAir. 



zxxvi. 



Ah ! what is man ? what perils still environ 
The happiest mortals even after dinner — 

A day of gold from out an age of iron 
Is all that life allows the luckiest sinner ; 

Pleasure (whenever she sings, at least) 's a siren. 
That lures, to flay alive, the young beginner ; 

Lambro^s reception at his people's banquet 

Was such as fire accords to a wet blanket. 



XXXVII. 

He — being a man who seldom used a word 
Too much, and wishing gladly to surprise 

(In general he surprised men with the sword, 
Kis daughter — had not sent before to advise 

Of his arrival, so that no one stirrM ; 

And long he paused to re-assure his eyes. 

In fact much more astonishM than delighted, 

To find so much good company invited. 



XXXVIII. 

He did not know (ahis ! how men will lie) 
Tliat a report (especially the Greeks) 

AvouchM his death (such people never die), 

And put his house in mourning several weeks,— 

But now their eyes and also lips were drv ; 

The bloom, too, had return'd to Haidee's cheeks* 

Her tears, too, being returned into their fount. 

She now kept house upon her own account. 



XXXIX. 

Henco all this rice, meat, dancing, wine, and flddling. 
Which turn'd the isle into a place of pleasure ; 

The servants all were getting drunk or idling, 
A life which made them happy l)evond measure. 

HiT father's hospitality seemM middling, ^ 

Compared with what Haid^ did with his treasure; 

T was wonderful how things went on VEa^toVvu^^ 
While Bhe had not one hour to spate iiotuWim^^ 



CAMTOm. DON JUAlf. 125 



XL* 



Perhaps you think in stumbling on this feast 
He flew into a passion, and in fact 

There was no mighty reason to be pleased ; 
Perhaps you prophesy some sudden act, 

The whip, the rack, or dungeon at the leasts 
To teach his people to be more exact. 

And that, proceeding at a very high rate. 

He show'd the royal penchants of a pirate* 



XLI. 

You 're wrong. — He was the mildest manner d man 
That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat ; 

With such true breeding of a gentleman, 
You never could divine his real thought ; 

No courtier could, <ind sciircelv woman can 
Gird more deceit within a petticoat ; 

Pity he loved adventurous life's variety, 

He was so great a loss to good society. 



xLn. 

Advancing to the nearest dinner tray, 

Tapping the shoulder of the nighest guest. 

With a peculiar sniil**, which, by the way, 
Boded no good, whatever it express'd, 

He ask'd the meaning of this holiday ; 

The vinous Greek to whom he had address'd 

His question, much too merry to divine 

The questioner, fill'd up a glass of wine, 



XLIII. 

And without turning his facetious head, 

Over his shoulder, with a Bacchant air. 
Presented the overflowing cup, and said, 

"Talking '4 dry work, I have no time to vSpare. * 
A second luccup*d, " Our old master *s dead, 

You 'd beUer ask our mistress who 's Wis V\c\t%* 
^ Oar mistress! "quoth a third : ** Our mislTe8s\ — ifOoV, 
Fou wean our master — not the old, but ncvr-" 



136 DON JUAN. 



CAJETOn. 



XLIV. 

These rascals, being new comers, knew not whom 
Thev tiius address'd — and Lambro's visac:e teJl — 

And o'er his eye a momentary gloom 

Pui>s\I, l>ut l)e strove quite courteously to quell 

The c.xprebsion, and endeavouring to resume 
Uia smiK'y requested one of ihem to tell 

The name and quaUty ol'his new patron, 

Who st-ciii'J to have turu*d [laidee into a matron. 

XLV. 

" I know not," quoth the fellow, " who or what 
He is, nor whence he came — and little care ; 

But this I know, that this roast capon 's fat, 

And that good wine ne'er wash'd down better fiiro , 

And it* vou are not satisfied with that, 

Direct your q<iestions to my neighbour there ; 
He 'il answer all for belter or tor worse. 
For none likes more to hear himself converse." * 

XL VI. 

I said that Lambro was a man of patience, 
And certainly he siiow'd the best of breedinjr, 

Wiiich scarce even France, tiie paragon of nations, 
EVr saw her most polite of sons exceeding ; 

He bore these sneers ajjaiast iiis near relations. 
His own anxiety, his iieart, loo, bleeding. 

The insults, too, of eVv.Ty s»ervile giuiKm, 

Who all the time was eating up his mutton. 

XLVIl. 

Now in a person used to much command — 
To bid men come, and go, and come again — 

To see his orders done, too, out of hand — 

Whether the word was death, or but the chain — 

It may seem stran.;e to find his manners bland ; 
Yet such tilings are, which I can not explain. 

Though doubtless he who can command himself 

Is good to govern — almost as a Guelf. 

• *• Rispone allor' Mnrpiiue, a dir tfl tosto, 

lu non credo piu al ncio ch' all* azzurro ; 
Ma nel cappoiie, o lesso^ u vu(>gli arnibio, 

£ credo uicuiia voUa anco nel burro ; 
NeUa cerx'igia, e nuando io n' ho nel mosto^ 
£ molto piu nell' eapro che il manguno; 
Ma sopra tutto nel buun vino ho fede, 
E credo che aia salvo chi gli crede." 

PuLGi, AGBiyiQaCt Ut^gkam^ Cuio 1^ Stnm 15L 



CAMTOIB. 



DON JUAvr. 127 



XLVUI. 



Not that he was not sometimes rash or so, 
But never in his real and serious mood ; 

Then calm, concentrated, and still, and slow. 
He lay coil'd like the boa in the wood ; 

With him it never was a word and blow, 
His angry word once o'er, he shed no bloody 

But in his silence there was much to rue, 

And his one blow left little work for two. 



XLIX. 

He ask'd no further questions, and proceeded 
On to the house, but by a private way. 

So that the few who met him hardlv heeded. 
So little they expected him that day ; 

If love paternal in his bosom pleaded 

For liaidoe's sake, is moro than 1 can say 

But certainly to one deem'd dead returning. 

This revel seem'd a curious mode of mourning. 



L. 

If all the dead could now return to life, 

(Which God forbid !) or some, or a great many, 

For instance, if a husband or his wife 
(Nuptial examples are as good as any). 

No doubt whate'er might be their former strife, 
The present weather would be much more rainy- 

Tears shed into the grave of the connexion 

Would share most probably its resurrection. 



LI. 

He enter'd in the house no more his home, 
A thing to human feelings the most trying, 

And harder for the heart to overcome. 

Perhaps, than even the mental pangs of dying ; 

To find our hearthstone turn'd into a tomb, 

And round its once warm precincts palely lying 

The ashes of our hopes, is a deep grief. 

Beyond a single gentleman's belief. 



128 DON jVAir. 



Ln. 



He enter'd in the house — his home no inore» 
For without hearts there is no home ; -— and ftit 

The solitude of passing his own door 

Without a welcome : tJiere he long had dwelt. 

There his few peaceful days Time had swept o'er* 
There his worn bosom and keen eve would melt 

Over the innocence of that sweet child, 

His only shrine of feelings undefiled. 



Lni« 



He was a man of a strange temperament. 
Of mild demeanour though of savage mood, 

Moderate in all his habits, and content 
Witli temperance in pleasure, as in food, 

Quick to perceive, and stronn; to l)ear, and meant 
For somelliing better, if not wholly good ; 

His country's wrongs and his despair to save her 

Had stung him from a slave to an enslaver. 



LIV. 

The love of power, and rapid gam of gold, 
The hardness by long habitude produced, 

The danjrerous life in which he had urown old, 
The mercy he had grantod oft abused, 

The sights he was accustom'd to behold. 

The wild seas, and wild men with whom he cruised. 

Had cost his enemies a long repentance. 

And made him a good friend, but bad acquaintance. 



V. 

But something of the spirit of old Greece 
Flash'd o'er his soul a few heroic rays, 
Such as lit onward to the Golden Pleece 

His predecessors in the Colcbian days ; 
T is true he had no ardent love for peace ; — 
Alas I his country show'd no path to praise : 
Hate to the world and war with every wbAaou 
He waged, in v«Dgeance of Viex degwAsLVioiu 



BAvroni. DON JUAX. 139 



LVI. 

Still o'er his mind the influence of the clime 
Shed its Ionian elegance, which show'd 

Its power unconsciously full many a time, — 
A taste seen in the choice of his ahode, 

A love of music and of scenes suhlime, 
A pleasure in the gentle stream that flow'd 

Past him in crystal, and a joy in flowers, 

Bedew'd his spirit in his calmer hours. 



LVU. 

But whatsoe'er he had of love reposed 
On that beloved daughter ; she had been 

The only thing which kept his heart unclosed 
Amidst the savage deeds he had done and seen ; 

A lonely pure alTection unopposed : 

There wanted but the loss of this to wean 

His feelings from all milk of human kindness, 

And turn him like the Cyclops mad with blindness. 



LVIII. 

The cubless tigress in her jungle raging 
Is dreadful to the shepherd and the flock ; 

The ocean when its yeasty war is waging 
Is awful to the vessel near the rock ; 

But violent things will sooner [)ear assuaging, 
Their fury being spent by its own shock, 

Than the stern, single, deep, and wordless ire 

Of a strong human heart, and in a sire. 



LIX. 



It is a hard although a common case 

To find our children running restive — they 

In whom our brightest days we would retrace^ 
Our little selves re-form'd in finer clay, 

Just as old age is creeping on apace. 

And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day^ 

They kindly leave u^ though not quite a\on4. 
But in good company — the gout or stone. 



180 DOH jTur 



LX. 



Yet a fine family is a fine thing 

(Provided they do n't come in afler dinner); 
T is beautiful to see a matron bring 

Hit children up (if nursing them do n't thin her); 
Like ctierulttf round an altar-piece they cling 

To the fireside (a sight to touch a sinner). 
A lady with her daughters or her nieces 
Shine like a guinea and seven-shiliing pieces. 



LXI. 



Old Lambro pass'd unseen a private gate^ 
And stood within his hnll at eventide ; 

Meantime the lady and her lover sate 

At wasssail in tlu*ir btanty and their pride: 

An i\nry inlaid lahlo spread with slate 

Bt.'l(»ni tluni, ami iiiir slavrs on every side; 

Gems, gold, and silver, form'd the stTvice mostly, 

Mother.ot'.pearl and coral the less costly. 



LXII. 



The dinner madd about a hundred dishes ; 

Lam!) and pistachio nuts — in short, all meats, 
An«I satlVon smips, and sweetbreads; and the fishes 

Wrre of llie finest th-it e'er tloun'^ed in nets, 
DressM to a J>ybarile's most j)inipor'd wishes; 

The U'verajie was various sherbets 
Of raisin, orange, and pomegranate juice. 
Squeezed through the rind, which makes it best for 



Lxni. 



lliese were ranged round, each in its cr\'sta] ewer» 
And fruits, and date-bread loaves closed the repastf 

And MochaV l>erry, from Arabia pure, 

In small fine China cups, caii:e in at Inst; 

Gold cups of filigr«»e made to secure 

The hand from burning underneath them placed, 

Cloves, cinnamon, and safiron too were boiPd 

Up With the coffee, which (I think) they spoil'd. 



tunoBL 



DON JUAN. 191 



LXIV. 

The hangings of the room were tapestry, made 
or velvet panels, each of differeiit hue, 

And thick with damask flowers of silk inlaid ; 
And round them ran a yellow border too; 

The upper border, richly wrought, displayed, 
EmbroiderM delicately o*er with blue, 

Sofl Persian sentences, in lilac letters, 

From poets, or the moralists their betters. 



LXV. 

'The Oriental writings on the wall. 

Quite common in those countries, are a kind 

Of monitors adapted to recall, 

Like skulls nt Memphian banquets, to the mind 

The words winch sliook lit^lsliazzar in his hall, 
And took his kingdom from him: You will iind. 

Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure^ 

There is no sterner moralist than Pleasure 



LXVI. 

A beauty at the season's close grown hectic, 
A genius who has drimk himself to death, 

A rake turn'd melhodistic, or Eclectic — 

(For that's the name they like to pray beneath) 

But most, an alderman struck apoplectic. 

Are things that really take away the breath, — 

And show that late hours, wine, and love are able 

To do not much less damage than the table. 



LXVII. 

Haid6e and Juan carpeted their feet 

On crimson satin, border'd with pale blue : 

Their sofa occupied three part.^ complete 

Of the apartment — and appear'd quite new : 

The velvet cushions (for a throne more meet) — 
Were scarlet, from whose glowing centre grew 

A sun emboss'd in gold, whose rays of tissue, 

Meridian-like, were seen all light to issue. 



\^2 DON jVKy. 

XJCVUI. 

Crystal and marble, plate and porcelain, 

Had done their work of splendour ; Indian matt 

And Persian carpets, which the heart bled to staiOy 
Over the floors were spread ; gazelles and catSi 

And dwarfs and blacks, and such 4ike things, that flain 
Their bread as ministers and favourites — (that i 

To say, by degradation) — mingled there 

As plentiful as in a court, or fair. 



There was no want of lofty mirrors, and 

The tables, most of ebony inlaid 
With mother-of-pearl or ivory, stood at hand, 

.)r werti of tortoise-shell or rare woods made, 
Krt'tied with gold or silver : — by command. 

The greaier part of ihvse were ready spread 
With viands and sherbets in ice — and wine — 
Kept for all comers, at all hours to dine. 

LXX. 

Of all the dresses I select IIaid6e's : 

She wore two jelicks — one was of pale yellow ; 

Of azure, pink, and white was her chemise — 

'Neath which her breast heaved like a little billow; 

With buttons form'd of pearls as largo as peas, 
All gold and crimson slione her jelick's fellow, 

And the striped white gauze baracan that bound her, 

Like fleecy clouds about the moon, flow'd round her. 

LXXI. 

One large gold bracelet clasp'd each lovely arm, 
Lockless — so pliable from the pure gold 

That the hand stretch'd and shut it without harmf 
The limb which it adornM its onlv mould ; 

So l)oautiful — its very sha|)e would charm, 
And clinging as if loath to lose its hold. 

The purest ore inclosed the whitest skin 

That e'er by precious metal was held in-* 

• Thui drpiv h MIoorith, and the braceVta *t\A \>w VR-^ramvtv ttw immMt 
described. The reader will perceive Iwrea^ct, \\mm. «& ^* tofl^^jftx «\ " "'^' 
■"' ^fFcz, her daughter wore ihe gatb oC tbe co>mvrj. 



OAJfTOin. 



i>oN juAx. i;)3 



LXXII. 

Around, as princess of her father's land, 

A like gold bar above her instep roll'd * 
Announced her rank ; twelve rings were on her hand , 

Her hair was starrM with gems ; her veil's fine fold 
Below her breast was fastened with a band 

Of lavish pearls, whose worth could scarce be told , 
Her orange silk full Turkish trowsers furl'd 
About the prettiest ankle in the world. 

LXXIII. 

Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel 
Flow'd like an Alpine torrent which the sun 

Dyes with his morning light, — and would conceal 
Her person f if allow'd at large to run, 

And still they seem resentfully to feel 

The silken lillet's curb, and sought to shun 

Their bonds whene'er some zephyr caught began 

To offer his young pinion as her fan. 

LXXIV. 

Round her she made an atmosphere of life, 
The very air seemM lighter from her eyes. 

They were so soft and beautiful, and rife 
With all we can imagine of the skies. 

And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wife — 
Too pure even for the purest human ties ; 

Her overpowering prcsenco made you feel 

It would not be idolatry to kneel. 

LXXV. 

Her eyelashes, thoncrh dark as night, were tinged 

(It is the country's custom), but in vain ; 
For those large black eyes were so blackly fringed, 

The glossy rebels mock'd the jetty stain, 
And in their native beauty stood avenged : 

Her nails were touch'd with henna ; but again 
The power of art was turn'd to nothing, for 
They could not look more rosy than before. 

• The bar of gold above the instep is a mark of sovereigii rank in the women 
of the fumilies of the Dcyt, and is worn as siu'h by their fenialo relatives. 

t This is no exaggeration; there were four women whom I remember to 
have seen, who possessed llicir hair in this profu>ion; of tliexe, three were 
Englihht the other was a I^evantine. TlifMr hair was of U\iaXVow«\\\ a\\^ <;:Mi.'\t\- 
tiiy, that, when let down, it nhnost entirely shaded l\\e pcr>so\\, »k^ VkRw^ivA'S \o 
ntyl^r dretfs a guperHiiity. Of the^e, only one had dark \vaiT \ v\\e V^t\e\\\aiC^ 
had, perbapa, the ligbiest colour of the four. 



131 DOH JUA9 CAKTO W 



The henna should be deeply dyed to make 
The skin relieved appear oiore fairly fiiir ; 

She had no need of this, day ne'er will break 

On mountain tops more heavenly white than hers 

The eye might doubt if it were well awake. 
She was so like a vision ; I might err, 

But Shakspeare also says 't is very silly 

** To gild refined gold, or paint the lily.'' 



Juan had on a shawl of black and gold, 
But a white baracan, and so transparent 

The sparkling gems beneath you might behold, 
Like siimli stars through the milky way apparent ; 

His turban, furi'd in many a graceful fold, 
An emerald aigrette with Haidee's hair in 't 

Surmounieti, as its clusp, a glowing crescent, 

Wliose rays shone ever trembling, but incessant. 



LXx^^II. 

And now they w*ere diverted by their suite. 

Dwarfs, dancing girls, black eunuchs, and a poet. 
Which made their new fstablishnient complete ; 

The last was of great tame, and liked to show it : 
His verses rarely wanted their due feet — 

' And for'bis theme — he seldom sung below it, 
He being paid to satirise or flatter. 
As the psiilm says, " inditing a good matter." / 



LXXIX. 

He praised the present, and abused the past, 
Reversing the good custom of old days, 

An ejistern anti-jacobin at last 

He turn'd, preferring pudding to no praise — 

For some few years his lot had l>een o'ercast 
By his seeming indejicndent in his lays. 

But now he sung the Sultan and the Pacha 

With truth like Southey, and with verse like Crnshaw 



9MJKT0 m. DON JUAIf* 136 



LXXX. 

Ho was a man who had seen many changes. 
And always changed as true as any needle ; 

His polar star being one which rather ranges, 
And not the fix'd — he knew the way to wheedle 

So vile he *scaped the doom which oft avenges ; 
And being fluent, (save indeed when fee'd ill,) 

He lied with such a fervour of intention — 

There was no doubt he earn'd his laureate pension* 



LXXXt. 

But he had genius — when a turncoat has it. 

The ** Vates irritubilis " takes care 
That without notice few full moons shall pass it ; 

Even good jncn likci to make the public stare :-^ 
But to my siibjoct — let me see — what was it? — 

Oh! — the third canto — and the pretty pair — 
Their loves, and teasts, and liouse, and dress, and mode 
Of living in their insular abode. 



LXXXII. 

Their poet, a sad trimmer, but no less 

In company a very [)leasant fellow, 
Had been th(^ favourite of full many a mess 

Of men, and made them speeelies when half mellow; 
And thoii<;h his meaning tiiey could rarely jj^uess, 

Y^'t still they dei«j;nM to hiccup or to bellow 
The glorious meed of popular applause, 
Of which the first ne'er knows the second cause. 



LXXXIII. 

But now being lifted into high society, 

And having pick'd up several odds and ends 

Of free thoughts in his travels for variety, 

He deem'di, being in a lone isle, among friends, 

That without any danger of a riot, he 

Might for long lying make himself amends , 

And singing as he sung in bis warm youth, 

4gree to a short a mistice with truth. 



186 DOK juah. oamto » 

ULXXIV* 

He had travell'd 'mongst the Arahs, Turks, and Franksy 
And knew the self-loves of the difierent nations ; 

And having lived with people of all ranks, 

Had something ready upon most occasions — 

Which got him a few presents and some thanks. 
He varied with some skill his adulations ; 

To ** do at Rome as Romans do," a piece 

Of conduct was which he observed in Greece. 

LXXXV. 

Thus, usually, when he was ask'd to sing, 

He gave the different nations something national ; 

"T was all the same to him — " God save the king,' 
Or ** Ca irCj^* according to the fashion all ; 

His muse made increment of any thing, 
From the lu«rh lyric to the low rational : 

If Pindar sang horse-races, what should hinder 

Himtclffrum being as pliable as Pindar? 

LXXXVl. 

In France, for instance, he would write a chanson ; 

In England a six canto quarto tale ; 
In Spain, he M make a ballad or romance on 

The last war — much the same in Portugal ; 
In Germany, the Pegasus be 'd prance on 

Would be o\d Goethe's — (see what says de Stael) ; 
In Italy he M ape the "Trecentisti ; " 
In Greece, he M sing some sort of hymn like this t' ye : 

1. 

The isles of Greece ! the isle^ of Greece ! 

Wliere burning Sappho lovtKl and sung. 
Where grew the arts of war and peace, — 

Where Delos rose, and Phcebus sprung I 
Eternal summer gilds them yet. 
But all, except their sun, is set. 

2. 

The Scian and the Teian muse, 

Tiie hero's ha^p, the lover's lute. 
Have found the f\me your shores refuse; 

Their place of birth alone is mute 
To sounds which echo further ^'est 
Than your sires* ** Islands of iVie BVorf^** 



•AMfO VL 



DON JUAX It? 



8. 

The fDOQntains look on Marathon — 
And Marathon looks on the sea ; 

And musing there an hour alone, 
I dream'd that Greece might still be five | 

For standing on the Persians' gravOf 

I could not deem myself a slave. 

4. 

A king sate on the rocky brow 
Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; 

And ships, by thousands, lay below. 
And men in nations ; — all were his ! 

He counted them at break of day -^ 

And when the sun set, where were they T 

5. 
And where are they? and where art thou. 

My coiiiitry ? On tliy voicoiess shore 
The heroic l;iv is liincless now — 

• 

The heroic bosom beats no more ! 
And must thy lyre, so Iohj^ divine. 
Degenerate into hands like mine 7 

0. 
'T is somethin^:, in tlic dearth of fame. 

Though linkM amon^ a fcttcr'd race. 
To feel at least ii patriot's shame, 

Even as I sing, suffuse my face ; 
For what is left the p(»ut here ? 
For Greeks a blush — for Greece a tear. 

7. 
Must ice but weep o'er days more bless'd t 

MiKst we but blusii ? — Our fathers bled. 
Earth ! render back from out tliy breast 

A remnant of our Spartan dead ! 
Of the three hundred grant but three. 
To make a new Therniopylie ! 

8. 
What, silent slill? ^nd silent all? 

Ah ! no ; — the voices of the dead 
Sound like a distant torrent's fall, 

And answer, **Let one living head, 
But one arise, — we come, we come \ ** 
^18 bat the liv Dg who are dumb. 



138 DON xuAir. eiHiu 

9. 

In vain — in vain : strike other chords ; 

Fill high the cup with Samian wine! 
Leave battles to the Turkish hordes. 

And shed the blood of Scio's vine ! 
Hark ! rising to the ignoble call — 
How answers each bold Bacchanal ! 

10. 
Tou have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, 

Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone t 
Of two such lessons, why forget 

The nobler and the manlier onet 
Tou have the letters Cadmus gave — 
Think ye he meant them for a slave t 

11. 

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 

We will not think of themes like these! 
It made Anacreon's song divine : 

He served — but served Poly crates — 
A tyrant ; but our masters then 
Were still, at least, our countrymen. 

12. 
The tyrant of the Chersonese 

Was freedom's best and bravest friend; 
That tvrant was Miltiades ! 

Oh ! that the pre^^ent hour would lend 
Another despot of tiie kind ! 
Such chains as his were sure to bind. 

13. 
Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 

On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore. 
Exists the remnant of a line 

Such as the Doric mothers bore ; 
And there, perhaps, some seed is sown. 
The Heracleidan blood might own. 

14. 
Trust not for freedom to the Franks — 

They have a king who biiys and sells x 
In native swords, and native ranks, 
The oaly hope of courage dwells ; 
But Turkish force, and Latin {raui, 
* Would break your shield, howevex \ycQiad» 



DON JUAlf. 19ft 

15. 

Fill higlf tho bow] with Samian wine ! 

Our virgins dance beneath the shade — 
I see their glorious black eyes shine ; 

But gazing on each glowing maid» 
My own the burning tear-drop laves, 
To think such breasts must suckle slaves. 

16 

Place me on Suniuro's marbled steep, 

Where nothing, save the waves and I| 
May hear our mutual murmurs sweep ; 

There, swan-like, let me sing and die : 
A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine — 
Dash down yon cup of Samian wine ! 

LXXXVII. 

Thus sung, or would, or could, or should have sung, 

The modern Greek, in tolerable verse ; 
If not like Orpheus quite, when Greece was young. 

Yet in tiiese times he might have done much worse: 
His strain display'd some feeling — right or wrong ; 

And feeling, in a poet, is the source 
Of others* feeling; but they are such liars. 
And take all colours — like the hands of dyers. 

LX XXVIII, 

But words are thing<^, and a small drop of ink. 
Falling like dew, upon a thoiight, produces 

That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think; 
'T is strange, the shortest letter which man uses 

Instead of speech, may form a lasting link 
Of ages; to what straits old Time reduces 

Frail man, when paper — even a rag like this, 

Sur^'ives himself, his tomb, and all that 's his. 

LXXXIX. 

And when his bones are dust, his grave a blank. 

His station, generation, even his nation. 
Become a thing, or nothing, save to rank 

In chronological commemoration. 
Some dull MS. oblivion long has sank. 

Or graven stone found in a barrack's Btalvon 
J^ digging the foundsLtion of a closet, 
Majr turn his name up, as a rare deposil. • 



110 DOX JITATT, CAmom. 



xc. • 

And glory long has made the sages smile ; 

'T is something, nothing, words, illusion, wind— 
Depending more upon the historian's stylo 

Than on the name a person leaves behind : 
Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoyle : 

The present century was growing blind 
To the great Marlborough's skill in giving knocks 
Until his late Life by Archdeacon Coxe. 



xci. 

Milton 's the prince of poets — so we say; 

A. little heavy, but no less divine : 
An independent being in his day — 

Lcaru'd, pious, teinpcraie in love and wine ; 
But his lil'e tlilhnj^ into Joiinson's way, 

We 're told this fjreat high priest of all the Nine 
Was wiiippM at college — j.i harsh sire — old spouse. 
For the first Mrs. Milton left iiis liouse. 



XCII. 

All these are, certesy cierlaininir facts, 

Like Sliakspeare's >teaiing ileor, Lord Bacon's bribes; 
Like Titus' youiii, and Cxsar's earliest acts ; 

Like liurns (wiiuni Doctor Cuirie well describes); 
Like Croniweli's [)raiiivs; — hut alilios.'gh truth exacts 

These amiable descri[>tions from tiie :5cribes. 
As nio&t e^isential to tlieir hero's story. 
They do not much contribute to his glory. 



XCIII. 

All are not moralists like Soutljey, when 

He prated to the worM of *• Paiitisocrasy ; " 
Or Worcis'Aorth 'inexciscj. ur.l.irt'd, \^ho then 
Season'd his pedlar poenis with democracy ; 
Or Coleridge, long before his llighty pen 

Let to the Morning Post its aristocracy ; 
When be and Sou they, foUowing iVve «ame ^^^ 
Bspouaed two partners (miliiners o£ ^^tVi^« 



C4ino tn. 



DON JUAir. 14\ 



zciv. 



Such names at present cut a convict figure, 
The very Botany Bay in mora] geography; 

Their loyal treason, renegado rigour, 

Are good manure for tUeir more bare biography* 

Wordsworth's last quarto, by the way, is bigger 
Than any since the birthday of typography ; 

A drowsy frowzy poem, call'd the ** Excursion,'' 

Writ in a manner which is my aversion. 



xcv. 

He there builds up a formidable dyke 
Between his own and others' intellect ; 

But Wordsworth's poem, and his tbl lowers, like 
Joanna SoutlicoleV Shiloh, and her sect, 

Are things whicli in tiiis centurv do n't strike 
The pubUc mind, — so few are the elect ; 

And the new births of both their stale virginities 

Have proved but dropsies taken for divinities. 



xcvi. 

But let me to my story : I must own. 
If I have any fault, it is digression — 

Leaving rny poople to |>roceed alone, 
Whilo 1 soliloquize beyond exj)rossion ; 

But these are my addresses from the throne. 
Which [)ut otr business to the ensuing session 

Forgetting each omission is a loss to 

The world, not quite so great as Ariosto. 



XCVII. 

I know that what our neighbours call "longueurs^^ 
(We 've not so good a word, but have the thing 

In that complete perfection which (^isures 
An epic from Bob Soulhev every spr ng — ) 

Form not the true temptation which allures 
The reader ; but 't would not be hard lo Wvn^ 

Some Bae examples of the epop^e^ 

To prove its grand ingredient is ennui. 



M2 I>01f JVAX. CAVK 



xcTin. 

We learn from Horace, •* Homer sometimes deeps ;* 
We feel without hira, Wordsworth sometimes wakesy 

To show with what complacency he creeps, 
With his dear " Wagoners,^^ around his lakes. 

He wishes for ** a boat " to sail the deeps — 
Of ocean ? — No, of air ; and then he makes 

Another outcrv for '* a little boat," 

And drivels seas to set it well afloat. 



xcix. 

If he must fain sweep o'er the etherial plain, 
And Pegasus runs restive in his " Wagon,** 

Could he not beg the loan of Charles's Waint 
Or pray M<^tlca tor a sin<^le drairon ? 

Or if too classic for his vulgar brain. 

He fear'd his neck to venture such a nag on. 

And he must needs niourt nearer to the moon, 

Could not the blockhead ask for a balloon ? 



c. 

"Pedlars," and " Bo-ils," and " Wagons ! " Oh ! ye shades 
Of Pope and Dryden, are we come to this? 

That irr»sh of sucli sort not alone evados 
Conteinp*^, but from the bathos' vast abyss 

Floats scumlike upp<^rmost, and these Jack Cades 
Of sense and song ab<jve your graves mav hiss — 

The " little boatman " and bis •* Peter Bell " 

Can sneer at him who drew " Achitophcl ! " 



CI. 

T* our tale. — The feast was over, the slaves goney 
The dwarfs and dancing girls bad all retired; 

The Arab lore and poet's song were done, 
And every sound of revelry expired ; 

The lady and her lover, left alone, 

Tiic rosy flood of twilight's sky admired ; — 

Ave Maris. \ o'er the earth and sea. 

That heavenliest hour of Heaven \s ^otWiYesX. ^^<^\ 



cjjrroia. XH>rf joan. 143 



cu. 

Are Maria ! blessed be the hour ! 

The time, the climey the spot, where I so ofl 
Have felt that moment in its fullest power 

Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, 
While swung the deep bell in the distant tower. 

Or the faint dying day. hymn stole aloft. 
And not a breath crept through the rosy air, 
And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer. 



cm. 

Aye Maria ! 't is the hour of prayer ! 

Ave Maria ! 't is the hour of love ! 
Ave Maria ! may our spirits dare 

Look up to thine and to thy Son's above ! 
Ave Maria ! oh that face so fair ! 

Those downcast eyes l)ene;ith the Almighty dove - 
What though 't is but a pictured image? — strike — 
That painting is no idol, — 't is too lik<* 



CIV. 

Some kinder casuists are pleased to say, 

In nameless print — that I have no devotion ; 

But set those persons down with me to pray, 
And you shall sue wiio has the proporest notion 

Of getting into heaven the shorte.'-t way; 
Mv altars are the mountains and the ocean, 

Earth, air, stars, — all that springs from the great Whole, 

Who hath produced, and will receive the soul. 



cv. 

Sweet hour of twilight ! — in the solitude 
Of the pine forest, and the silent shore 

Which hounds Ravenna's immemorial wood. 
Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er, 

To where the hist Caesarean fortress stood. 
Evergreen forest ! which Boccaccio's lore 

And Dryden's Jay made haunted ground to me, 
^otr have I loved the twiJight hour and i\\ee \ 



144 iKnr jdav. 



en. 



The shrill cicalas, people of the pinei 

Making their summer lives one ceasdess tongt 

Were the sole echoes, save my steed's and roioet 
And vesper bell's that rose the boughs along ; 

The spectre huntsman of Onesti's line, 

His hell-dogs, and their chase, and the fair throng 

Which leam'd from this example not to fly 

From a true lover, — shadow'd my mind's eye. 



cvn. 

Oh, Hesperus! * thou bringest all good things— 
Home to the weary, to the hungry cheer, 

To the young bird the parent's brooding wings, 
Tlie welcome stall to the o'erlabour'd steer ; 

Whate'cr of peace about our hearthstone clings, 
Whate'er our household gods protect of dear. 

Are gather'd round us by thy look of rest ; 

Thou bring'st the child, too, to the mother's breast. 



cvin. 

Soft hour ! t which wakes the wish and melts the heart 
Of those who sail the seas, on the first day 

When they from their sweet friends are torn apart ; 
Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way. 

As the far bell of vesper makes him start, 
Seeming to weep the dying day's decay ; 

Is this a fancy which our reason scorns ? 

Ah ! surely nothing dies but something mourns ! 



** '"Etnrtpt vavra ^epttSj 



It 



^tpsii jiarcoi vatia. 

Fragment o/'5ii|ylii. 

f " Era gia r ora che voice '1 disio, 

A' imvicranti, e 'nleneriace il cuore ; 
Lo di ch' Imn dctto a' dolci amioi a dio ; 

E che lo nuovo pcrecrin" d' ntnore 
PanTO, fe ode Squilla di lontano, 
Che paia '1 giorao pionger die si maore.*' 

Dante's Purgatory^ Canto tuL 

Thia hst line ia the fint of Gray^a Elegy, \aikeTi\)y \mii >»rv\\tfSQab ^sSma^dedf 
raiu. 



DON JUAH. 146 



tnXm 



When Nero perish'd by the justest doom 
Which ever the destroyer yet destroyed, 

Amidat the roar of liberated Romey 

Of nations freed, and the world overjoy'd. 

Some hands unseen strew 'd flowers upon his tomb : 
Perhaps the weakness of a heart not void 

Of feeling for some kindness done, when power 

Had left the wretch an uncorrupted hour. 



ex. 

But I 'm digressing : what on earth has Nero^ 

Or any such like sovereign bufToons, 
To do with the transactions of my hero. 

More than such madmen's fellow-man — the moon's? 
Sure my invention must be down at zero 

And [ grown one of many " wooden spoons 
Of verse (the name with wliich we Cantabs please 
To dub the last of honours in degrees). 



>9 



CXI. 



I feel this tediousness will never do — 
'T is being too epic, and [ must cut down 

(In copying) this long canto into two; 
Tiiey 'H never find it out, unless I own 

The fact, excepting some experienced few, 

And then as an improvement 't will be shown; 

I '11 prove that such the opinion of the critic is 

From Aristotle passim. — See nomninK. 

* See Suetonitu for this £ut. 



■M ■^^^i>^— *■< 



\ 



DON JUAW. 



CANTO THE F0X7RTH. 



I. 

Nothing so difficult as a beginning 

In poesy, unless perhaps the end ; 
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning 

The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tendy 
Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning; 

Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend, 
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far, 
Till our own weakness shows us what we are. 



II. 

But Time, which hrings all beings to their level, 
And sharp Adversity, will teach at last 

Man, — and, as we would hope, — perhaps the devil, 
That neither of their intellects are vast : 

While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel, 
We know not this — the blood flows on too fast ; 

But as the torrent widens towards the ocean, 

We ponder deeply on each past emotion 



in. 

As boy, I thought myself a clever fellow. 

And wish'd that others held the same opinion ; 

They took it up when my days grew more mellow. 
And other minds acknowledged my dominion : 

Now my sere fancy *' falls into the yellow 
Leaf," and Imagination droops her plmoiv, 

And the sad truth which hovers o'er my deaVi 
Thras what was once romantic to burleBque. 



148 DON JVAH. CMnnir. 



And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 

*T is that I may not weep ; and if I weep» 

T is that our nature cannot always bring 
Itself to apathy, for we must steep 

Our hearts first in the depths of Lethe's spring 
Ere what we least wish to behold will sieep: 

Thetis baptized her mortal son in Styx ; 

A mortal mother would on Lethe fix. 



▼. 

Some have accused me of a strange design 
Against the creed and morals of the land. 

And trace it in this poem every line : 
I do n't pretend that I quite understand 

My own meaning when I would l>e very fine ; 
But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd. 

Unless it were to be a moment nierry, 

A novel word in my vocabulary. 



VI, 

To the kind reader of our sober clime 

This way of writing will appear exotic ; 
Pulci was sire of the half-serious rhyme. 

Who sang when chivalry was more Quixotic, 
And rcvell'd in the fancies of the time, 

True knights, chaste dames, huge giants, kings despotic 
But all these, save the last, being obsolete, 
I chose a modem subject as more meet. 



vn. 

IIow I have treated it, I do not know ; 

Perhaps no better than they have treated me 
Who have imputed such designs as show 

Not what they saw, but what they wish'd to 
But if it gives them pleasure, be it so ; 

This is a liberal age, and thoughts are free 
Meantime Apollo plucks me by tbe eaic. 
And tells me to resume my story \iet^ 



AMftOIT. DON JVAN. 149 



Yin* 

TouDg Juan and his lady-love were lelfl 
To their own hearts' most sweet society ; 

Even Time the pitiless in sorrow cleft 

With his rude scythe such gentle bosoms ; he 

Sigh'd to behold them of their hours bereft 

Though foe to love ; and yet they could not be 

Meant to grow old-, but die in happy spring, 

Before one charm or hope had taken wing. 



IX. 

Their faces were not made for wrinkles, their 
Pure blood to stagnate, their great hearts to fail ; 

The blank gray was not made to blast their hair, 
But like the climes that know nor snow nor hail, 

They were a^l summer : lightning might assail 
And shiver them to ashes, but to trail 

A long and snake-like life of dull decay 

Was not for them — they had too little clay. 



X. 

. f Thev were alone once more ; for thorn to he 
Thus was another Eden^ they were never 

Wear\', unless when sojiarate : the tree 

Cut from its forest root of years — the river 

Damn'd from its fountain — the child from the knee 
And breast maternal wean'd at once for ever, — 

Would wither less than these two torn apart ; 

Alas ! there is no instinct like the heart — 



XI. 

The heart - — which may be broken : happy they ! 

Thrice fortunate ! who of that fragile mould, 
Tlie precious porcelain of human clay, 

Break with the first fall : thev can ne'er behold 
The long year link'd with heavy day on day, 

And all which must be borne, and never to\d\ 
While life's strange pTir\c\p\e will often Vie 
Deepest in those who long the most to die* 



150 DON JUAlff* 



CANTO «f. 



'A 



** Whom the gods love die young,'' was said of yore.^ 
And may deaths do they escape by this : 

The death of friends, and that which slays even more— 
The death of friendship, love, youth, all that ia^ 

Except mere breath ; and since the silent shore 
Awaits at last even those whom longest miss 

The old archer's shafts, perhaps the early grave 

Which men weep over may be meant to save. 



IIaid6e and Juan thought not of the dead. 

The heavens, and earth, and air, seem'd made for them 
They found no fault with Time, save that he fled ; 

They saw not in themselves aught to condenm : 
Each was the other's mirror, and but read 

Joy sparkling in their dark eyes like a gem. 
And knew such brightness was but the reflection 
Of their exchanging glances of atfection. 



xrv. 

The gentle pressure, and the thrilling touch. 
The least glance better understood than words. 

Which still said all, and ne'er could say too much ; 
A language, too, but like to that of birds. 

Known but to them, at least appearing such 
As but to lovers a true sense atfords ; 

Sweet playful phrases, which would seem absurd 

To those who have ceased to hear such, or ne'er heard : 

XV. 

All these wene theirs, for they were children still, 
And children still they should have ever becjn ; 

They were not made in the real world to fill 
A busy character in the dull scene. 

But like two beings born from out a rill, 
A nymph and her beloved, all unseen 

To puss their lives in fountains and on flowers, 
And never know the weight of Vwiman Vio\ir8. 

* See Heiodotn*. 



CAMTOIT. DON lUAlX* lb% 



ZVI* 

Moons chaDffing had roll'd on, and changeless foond 
Those their bright rise had lighted to such joys 

As rarely they beheld throughout their round ; 
And these were not of the vain kind which cloysy 

For theirs were buoyant spirits, never bound 
By the mere senses ; and that which destroys 

Most love, possession, unto them appeared 

A thing which each endearment more endear'd. 



xvn. 

Oh beautiful ! and rare as beautiful ! 

But theirs was love in which the mind delights 
To lose itself, when the old world grows dull, 

And we are sick of its hack sounds and sights, 
Intrigues, adventures of the cominon school, 

Its petty passions, marriages, and flights. 
Where Hymen's torch but brands one strumpet more. 
Whose husband only knows her not a wh — ^rc. 



xvin. 

Hard words ; harsh truth ; a truth which many know. 

Enough. — The faithful and the fairy pair, 
Who never found a single hour too slow, 

What was it made them thus exempt from care ? 
Young innate feelings all have felt below, 

Which perish in the rest, but in them were 
Inherent ; what we mortals call romantic. 
And always envy, though we deem it frantic. 



XIX. 

This is in others a factitious state. 

An opium dream of too much youth and reading. 
But was in them their nature or their fate : 
y No novels e'er had set their young hearts bleeding, 
Apor Haidee's knowledge was by no means great, 
y And Juan was a boy of saintly breeding *, 
: Bo that there was no reason for their \ovc3 
More than for those of nightingales or dove*. 



IM DOiff jVAir. cahtoit. 



They should have lived together deep in woods. 
Unseen as sings the nightingale ; they were 

Unfit to mix in these thick solitudes 

CallM social, haunts of Hate, and Vice, and Care s 

How lonely every freeborn creature broods ! 
The sweetest song-birds nestle in a pair ; 

The eagle soars alone ; the gull and crow 

Flock o'er their carrion, just like men below. 



Now pillow'd cheek to cheek, in loving sleep, 

Haidee and Juan their siesta took, 
A gentle slumber, but it was not deep. 

For ever and anon a something shook 
Juan, and shuddering o'er his frame would creep, 

And Haidee's sweet lips murmur'd like a brook 
A wordless music, and her face so fair 
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air ; 



XXX. 

Or as the stirring of a deep clear stream 
Within an Alpine hollow, when the wind 

Walks o'er it, was she shaken by the dream, 
The mystical usurper of the mind — 

O'erpowering us to be whatc'er may seem 

Good to the soul which we no more can bind ; 

Strange state of being ! (for 't is still to be) 

Senseless to feel, and with seal'd eyes to see. 



XXXI. 

She dream'd of being alone on the sea-shore, 

Chain'd to a rock ; she knew not how, but stir 
She could not from the spot, and the loud roar 

Grew,*and each wave rose rouj^hly, threatening heri 
And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour. 
Until she sobb'd for breath, and soon they were 
Foaming o*er her lone head, so tvcTce ^Lti^VCv^ — 
Each broke to drown her, yet she co\i\d nol ^^ 



OAMTOIT. 



DON JT7^N« 165 



ZXXH* 



Anon — she was released, and then she stray'd 
O'er the sharp shingles with her bleeding feet, 

And stumbled almost every step she made ; 
And something roll'd before her in a sheet, 

Which she must still pursue howe'er afraid : 

'T was white and indistinct, nor stoppM to meet 

Her glance nor grasp, for still she gazed and grasp'd. 

And ran, but it escaped her as she clasp'd. 



xxxin. 

The dream changed : — in a cave she stood, its walls 
Were hung with marble icicles ; the work 

Of a^es on its water-fretted halls, [lurk ; 

Where waves mio^ht wash, and seals might breed and 

Her hair was dripping, and the very balls 

Of her black eyes seomM turn'd to tears, and mirk 

The sharp rocks look'd below each drop they caught, 

Which froze to marble as it fell, — she thought. 



XXXIV. 

And wet, and cold, and lifeless at her feet, 

Pale as the foam that frotliM on his dead brow. 

Which she essay'd in vain to clear, (liow sweet 
Were once her cares, how idle seern'd they now !) 

Lay Juan, nor could aught renew tiie beat 

Of his quench'd heart ; and the sea dirges low 

Rang in her sad ears like a mermaid's song. 

And that brief dream appeared a life too long. 



XXXV. 

And gazing on the dead, she thought his face 

Faded, or alter'd into something new — 
Like to her father's features, till each trace 

More like and like to Lainbro's aspect grew — 
With all his keen worn look and Grecian grace ; 

And starting, she awoke, and what to vVcwl 
Ob J Powers of Heaven / what dark eye mecla a\v» toew 
^18 — 't is her father's — fix*d upon \he paVt \ 



"•m^ 



166 DON JVAB. 



Then shrieking, she arose, and shrieking fell^ 
With joy and sorrow, hope and fear, to see 

Him whom she deem'd a habitant where dwefl 
The ocean-buried, risen from death, to be 

Perchance the death of one she loved too well : 
Dear as her father had been to Haid^e, 

It was a moment of that awtiil kind ■ 

I have seen such — but must not call to mind. 



Up Juan sprung to Haid6e's bitter shriek. 
And caught her falling, and from off the wall 

Snatch'd down his sabre, in hot haste to wreak 
Vengeance on him who was the cause of all : 

Then Lambro, who till now forbore to speak. 
Smiled scornfully, and said, " Within my call 

A thousand scimitars await the word ; 

Put up, young man, put up your silly sword." 



xxxvin. 

And Haidce clung around him ; " Juan, 't is — 
'T is Lambro — 't is my father ! Kneel with me 

He will forgive us — yes — it must be — yes. 
Oh ! dearest father, in this agony 

Of pleasure and of pain — even while I kiss 
Thy garment's hem with transport, can it be 

That doubt should mingle with my filial joy ? 

Deal with me as thou wilt, but spare this boy.** 



XXXIX. 

High and inscrutable the old man stood. 

Calm in his voice, and calm within his eye — - 
Not always signs with him of calmest mood : 

He look'd upon her, but gave no reply ; 
Then turn'd to Juan, in wh; j check the blood 
Oft came and went, as there resolved to die ; 
In arms, at least, he stood, \n act lo s^xvtk^ 
On the first foe whom Lai^bto^a c^\ vci^X.\s!ra%« 



IT. 



DON JUAN. 157 



** Toung mao, your sword ; " so Lambro once more said : 
. Juan replied, ''Not while this arm is free." 
/The old man's cheek grew pale, but not with dread. 

And drawing from his belt a pistol, he 
Replied, ** Your blood be tlien on your own head*" ^ 

Then look'd close at the flint, as if to see 
'T was fresh — for he had lately used the lock— • 
And next proceeded quietly to cock. 



XLI. 

It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, 
Tliat cocking of a pistol, when you know 

A moment more will bring the sight to bear 
Upon your person, twelve yards oflT, or so; 

A gentlemanly distance, not too near, 
If you have got a former friend for foe ; 

But after being fired at once or twice. 

The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice. 



Xlill. 

Lambro presented, and one instant more 

Had stopp'd this Canto, and Don Juan's breath, 

When Haidec threw herself her boy Inifore ; 

Stern as her sire : " On me," she cried, " let death 

Descend — the fault is mine; this fatal shore 

He found — but sought not. 1 have |)ledged my faith 

I love him — I will die with him: I knew 

Your nature's firmness — know your daughter's too.' 



n 



XLIII. 

A minute past, and she had been all tears, 
And tenderness, and infancy ; but now 

She stood as one who champion'd human fears — 
Pale, statue-like, and stern, she wooM the blow ; 

And tall beyond her sex, and their compeers, 
She drew up to her height, as if to s\\ow 

A fairer mark; and with a fix'd eve sc;u\u*d 
Her father's face — but never stopp'd \ub Vvaud. 



1^8 DON JUAir* CAMlOlt 



xuv. 

He gazed on her, and she on him ; 't was strange 
How like they look'd ! the expression was the 

Serenely savage, with a little change 

in the large dark eye's mutual-darted flame ; 

For she« too, was as one who could avenge 
If cause should be — a lioness, though tame^ 

Her father's blood before her father's face 

Boil'd up, and proved her truly of his race. 



XLV* 

I said they were alike, their features and 

Tlieir stature, differing but in sex and years ; 

Even to the delicacy of their hand 

There was resemblance, such as true blood wears ; 

And now to see them, thus divided, stand 
In fix'd ferocity, when joyous tears, 

And sweet sensations, should have welcomed both, 

Show what the passions are in their full growth. 



XL VI. 

The father paused a moment, then withdrew 
His weapon, and replaced it ; but stood still. 

And looking on her, as to look her through, 

** Not /," he said, " have sought this stranger's ill ; 

Not / have made this desolation : few 

Would bear such outrage, and forbear to kill ; 

But 1 must do my duty — how thou hast 

Doae thine, the present vouches for the pasL 



XLYU, 

** Let him disarm ; or, by my father's head. 

His own shall roll before you like a ball ! " 
He raised his whistle, as the word he said. 
And blew, another answer'd to the call, 
And rushing in disorderly, though led, 
And arm'd from boot to turban, one and all. 
Some twenty of his train came, taivV. on t«.t\>r.\ 
He gave the word, — '* Ajrest or 3\a^ vVi^ Yi^i^ 



DON jUAir* 159 



XLvni. 



Then, with a sudden movement, he withdrew 

His daughter ; while compressM within his clasp, 
\ Twixt her and Juan interposed the crew ; 
\ In vain she struggled in her father's grasp — 

His arms were like a serpent's coil : then flew 
' ^ Upon their prey, as darts an angry asp, 
The file of pirates; save the foremost, who 
Had fallen, with his right shoulder lialf cut through. 



/ 



/ 



XLEC. 



The second had his cheek laid open ; but 
The third, a wary, cool old sworder, took 

The blows upon his cutlass, and then put 

His own well in ; so well, ere you could look. 

His man was floorM, and hel|)less at his foot, 
With the hlood running like a little brook 

From two smart sabre gashes, deep and red^ 

One qn the arm, the other on the head. 



L. 



And then thev bound him where he fell, and bore 
Juan from the apartment : with a sijrn 

Old Lambro bade them take liim to the shore. 

Where lay some ships which were to sail at nine. 

Tney laid him in a boat, and plied the oar 

Until they reachM some galliots, [>laced in line ; 

On board ot one of these, and under hatches. 

They stow'd liim, with strict orders to the watch< 



LI. 

The world is full of strange vicissitudes. 
And here was one exceedingly unpleasant : 

A gentleman so rich in the world's noods. 

Handsome and young, enjoying all th(; present. 

Just at the very tim«5 when he l«^asl broods 
On such a thin(r is sudden I v to sea scut. 

Wounded and chained, so that he ciinnot \uov^ 
And aJl because a lady fell in love. 



IM DON JUAir. 



ounonr. 



Here I must leave hiniy for I grow padietic» 

Moved by the Chinese nymph of tears, greea taa ! 

Than whom Cassandra was not more prophetic ; 
For if my pure libations exceed three, 

I feel my heart become so sympathetic. 

That I must have recourse to black Bohea : 

*T is pity wine should be so deleterious, 

For tea and coffee leave us much more seriouay 



Lin. 

Unless when qualified with thee, Cogniac ! 

Sweet Naiad of the Phlegethontic rill ! 
Ah ! why the liver wilt thou thus attack, 

And make, like other nymphs, thy lovers ill? 
I would take refuge in weak punch, but rocky 

(In each sense of the word), whene'er I fill 
My mild and midnight beakers to the brim, 
Wakes me next morning with its synonym. 



uv. 

I leave Don Juan for the present, safe — 

Not sound, poor fellow, but severely wounded ; 

Yet could his corporal pangs amount to half 

Of those with which his Haidee's bosom bounded! 

She was not one to weep, and rave, and chafe, 
And then give way, subdued because surrounded; 

Her mother was a Moorish maid, from Fez, 

Where all is Eden, or a wilderness 



LV. 

There the large olive rains its amber store 

In marble fontfi ; there grain, and flower, and firuit. 
Gush from the earth until the land nms o'er ; 
But there, too, many a poison- tree has root. 
And midnight listens to the lion's roar. 
And longy Jong deserts scorch the camel's foot, 
Or heaving whelm the helpless catik\^Ti\ 
And a^ the soil is, so the heart oC maji* 



cutfrroiT, 



DON JUAir. 16J 



LVI. 

Afric is all the sun's^ and as her earth 

Her human clay is kindled ; full of power 
For good or evil, burning from its birth, 

The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour, 
And like the soil beneath it will bring forth : 

Beauty and love were Haid^e's mother's dower ; 
But her large dark eye show'd deep Passion's force^ 
Though sleeping like a lion near a source. 

LVII, 

Her daughter, temper'd with a milder ray, 

Like summer clouds all silvery, smooth, and fair, 

Till slowly charged with thunder they display 
Terror to earth, and tempest to the air, 

Had held till now her soft and milkv wav ; 
But overwrought with passion and despair, 

The fire burst tbrth from her Numidian veins. 

Even as the Simoom sweeps the blasted plains. 

LVIII. 

The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore, 
And he himself o'ermaster'd and cut down ; 

His blood was runninj^ on the verv floor 
Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own ; 

Thus much she vicw'd an instant and no more, — 
Her stnigfjles ceased with one convulsive groan j 

On her sire's arm, which until now sctirce held 

Her writhing, fell she like a ccdur fell'd. 

LTX. 

A vein had burst,* and her sweet lips' pure dyes 
Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er; 

And her head dropp'd as when the lily lies 

O'ercharged with rain : her summoned handmaids bore 

Their lady to her coucli witli gushing eyes ; 

Of herbs and cordials they produced tlieir store, 

But she defied all means they could employ. 

Like one life could not hold, nor death destroy. 

• 1 hiii IS no very unrominon cfTfcl of iho violrnro of conflicting nnd diffV-T- 
ent pawions. The Dofie Fiancis rosc:\ri, on his deposition in 1 If)?, hearing the 
bellii of Si. Mark announce the election of his sncces^or, " mourut Rubitenent 
d^une hemorratfie causee par une vrinc qui h'eclata dans fa |>oilrine." (see 
Sicmondi and l)aru, vols. i. and ii.) at the ape of eiirhty years, when "u'Ao 
would have Ihnu^ht I he (Jd rmtn hud so w»/< /* hhutfJ in him ? " IJcrore \ wan s\xVe«i^ 
yean of ago, 1 was wiinek^s to a melancholy int^taucc o( v\\e. n-.vwo. «^Xvc\ q^ xuvk»^ 
p^BmoTiB vpon a you n^ person, who^ however, did nol d\e "\u vo\\*e«\>\«i\c«N ^V 
that time, but feu a victim some years afterwards lo tx sexxwie o^ \^© ^wsiftVsacA, 
mnmj^Aom caasea intimately connected with agitation ol tnvud. 



■avs lay she in that state 
J Willi nothing livid, still 
Ihc had no pulse, but deft" 
1 No hideoua sign procla" 

Corruption came not in e- 

1 All hojie ; to look upon 
kew thoughts of life, for 

Bhe bad so much earth < 



IThe ruling passion, bucI 
r When exquisitely ohi 
put fi.i'd as marble's ur" 

■ the fair Venus, 
D'er the Laocoon's oil 

Their energy like life f 
Yet looks not U&, for S 



IShe woke at lengthi bv 

Rather the dead, tor 

strange senKalion w 

Perlorcc, since what 

|Struck not on memory 

Lay at her Iteart, vr 

Irouglit back the sent 

iFor, for a while, the ft 



|8he look'd on many a 

On many a token w 
|She saw them watch li 

And reck'd no! who 
iNot speechless, Ihoiigjj 

Heiiev'd her though 
" re tried in vain by 

Sign, save bi«alh. 




109 DON JUAN. CAHIOIV. 



LX. 

Days lay she in that state unchaoged, though chill • 
With nothing livid, still her lips were red ; 

She had no pulse, but death secm'd absent still ; 
No hideous sign proclaimed her surely dead ; 

Corruption came not in each mind to kill 
All hope ; to look upon her sweet face bred 

New thoughts of life, for it seeni'd full of soul -^ 

She had so much earth could not claim the whole. 



LXI. 

The ruling passion, such as marble shows 
When exquisitely chisell'd, still lay there. 

But fix'd as marble's unchanged aspect throws 
O'er the fair Venus, but for ever fair ; 

O'er the Laocoon's all eternal throes. 
And ever-dvinfj Gladiator's air. 

Their energy like life tonus all their fame. 

Yet looks not life, for they are still the same. 



LXII. 

She woke at length, but not as sleepers wake. 
Rather the dead, tor life seem'd something new, 

A strange sensation which she must partake 
Perforce, since whatsoever met her view 

Struck not on memory, thou«ih a heavy ache 
Lay at her heart, whose earliest beat slill true 

Brought back the sense of pain without the cause, 

For, for a while, the furies made a pause. 



LXIU. 

She look'd on many a face with vacant eye. 
On many a token without knowing what ; 
She saw them watch her without asking why. 
And reck'd not who around her pillow sat ; 
Not speechless, though she spoke not ; not a sigh 

Relieved her thoughts ; dull silence and quick chat 
Were tried in vain by those w\\o aerj^ \ ^\^ ^^^ 
No sign, save breath, of having \e& l\i^ ^rln^ 



•AHffOIT. DON JUAN. Ittt) 



£XI¥. 

Her handmaids tended, but she heeded not ; 

Her father watch'd, she turn'd her eyes away ; 
She recognised no being, and no spot, 

However dear or cherish'd in their day ; 
They changed from room to room, but all forgot. 

Gentle, but without memory she lay ; 
At length those eyes, which they would fain be weaning 
Rack to old thoughts, wax'd full of fearful meaning. 



LXV. 

And then a slave bethought her of a harp ; 

The harper came, and tuned his instrument ; 
At the first notes, irrc^gular and sharp, 

On him her flashing eyes a moment bent, 
Then to the wall she turn'd as if to warp 

Her thoughts from sorrow through her heart re-sent; 
And he begun a long low island song 
Of ancient days, ere tyranny grew strong. 



LXVI. 

Anon her thin wan fingers beat the wall 
In time to his old tune ; he changed the theme 

And sung of love ; the fierce name struck through all 
Her recollection ; on lu^r flashM the dream 

Of what she was, and is, if ye could call 
To be so being ; in a gushing stream 

The tears rush'd forth from her o'erclouded brain. 

Like mountain mists at length dissolved in rain. 



Lxvn. 

Short solace, vain relief! — thought came too quickf 
And whirlM her brain to madness ; she arose 

As one who ne'er had dwelt among the sick. 
And flew at all she met, as on her foes ; 

But no one ever heard her speak or shriek, 

Although her paroxysm drew towards Us c\o9fc',— 

ffers wad a phrensy which disdained to rave. 
Even when they smote her, in the hope to aave% 



164 DON JUAH. CAMTOIf' 



Yet she betray'd at times a gleam of sense ; 

Nothing could make her meet her father's fkoe^ 
Though on all other things with looks intense 

She gazed, but none she ever could retrace ; 
Food she refused, and raiment ; no pretence 

Avail'd for either ; neither change of place^ 
Nor time, nor skill, nor remedy, could give her 
Senses to sleep — the power seem'd gone for erer* 



Twelve days an(f nights she withered thus ; at last* 
Without a groan, or sigh, or glance, to show ' 

A parting pang, the spirit from her pass'd: 

And tliev who watch'd her nearest could not know 

The very instant, till the change that cast 
Her sweet face into shadow, dull and slow, 

Glazed o'er her eyes — the beautiful, the blacks 

Oh ! to possess such lustre — and then lack ! 



LXX. 

She died, but not alone ; she held within 
A second principle of life, which might 

Have dawn'd a fair and sinless child of sin ; 
But closed its little l)eing without light. 

And went down to the grave unborn, wherein 
Blossom and boujih lie wither'd with one blight; 

In vain the dews of Heaven descend above 

The bleeding flower and blasted fruit of love. 



LXXI. 

Thus lived — thus died she ; never more on her 

Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not mada 
Through years or moons the inner weight to beary 

Which colder hearts endure till they are laid 
By age in earth : her days and pleasure^j were 
Brief, but delightful — such as had not staid 
Long with her destiny ; but s\\e a\ee;^^ >n^\\ 
By the sea-shore, whereon she \oved to d^^« 



^vfonr. DON jUAif. 160 



Lxxn* 

That isle is now all desolate and bare. 

Its dwellings down, its tenants passM away ; 

None bat her own and father's grave is there. 
And nothing outward tells of human clay ; 

Ye could not know where lies a thing so fair. 
No stone is there to show, no tongue to say 

What was ; no dirge, except the hollow sea's. 

Mourns o'er the beauty of the Cyclades. 



Lxxni* 

But many a Greek maid in a loving song 
Sighs o'er her name ; and many an islander 

With her sire's story makes the night less long , 
Valour was his, and beauty dwelt with her : 

If she loved rashly, her life paid for wrong — 
A heavy price must all pay who thus err. 

In some shape ; let none think to fly the danger, 

For soon or late Love is his own avenger. 



LXXIV. 

But let me change this theme, which grows too sad 
And lav this sheet of sorrows on the shelf: 

I do n't much like describing people mud. 
For fear of seeming rather touch'd myself— 

Besides, 1 've no more on this head to add ; 
And as my Muse is a capricious elf. 

We'll put about, and try another tack 

With Juan, lefl half-killM some stanzas back. 



LXXV. 

Wounded and fetter'd, " cabin'd, cribb'd, confined,** 
Some days and nights elapsed before that he 

Could altogether call the past to mind ; 
And when he did, he found himself at sea. 

Sailing six knots an hour before the wind ; 
The shores of Ihon Jay beneath their \ce — 

Another time he might have liked to see 'em. 
But now was not much pleased with Ca^e &\ga&wrci« 



166 DON jVAir. 



CIOTOIT. 



There, on the green and village^otted hill, is 
(Flank'd by the Hellespont, and by the sea) 

Entomb'd the bravest of the brave, Achilles ; 
They say so — (Bryant says the contrary^ : 

And further downward, tall and towering still, is 

The tumulus — of whom ? Heaven knows ; 't loay be 

Patroclus, Ajax, or Protesilaus ; 

All heroes, who if living still would slay us. 



Lzxvn. 

High barrows, without marble, or a name, 
A vast, untill'd, and mountain-skirted plain. 

And Ida in the distance, still the same, 
And old Scamander, (if 't is he) remain ; 

The situation sectiis still fonn'd for fame — 
A hundred thousand men might light again 

With ease ; but where I sought for llion's walls, 

The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise crawls ; 



Lxxvni. 

Troops of untended horses ; here and there 
Some little hamlets, with new names uncouth ; 

Sonic shepherds, (unlike Paris) led to stare 
A moment at the European youth 

Whom to the spot their school-boy feelings bear ; 
A Turk, with beads in hand, and pipe in mouth, 

Extremely taken with his own religion, 

Are what I found there — but the devil a Phrygian* 



LXXIX. 

Don Juan, here permitted to emerge 

From his dull cabin, found himself a slave ; 
Forlorn, and gazing on the deep blue surge, 

O'ershadow'd there by many a hero's grave ; 
Weak still with loss of blood, he scarce could urge 
A few brief questions ; and the answers gave 
No very satisfactory infonnat'ioti 
About his vaat or present situation 



I>ON JUAN. 167 



LXXX. 



He saw some fellow-captives, who appear'd 

To be Italians, as they were in fact ; 
From them, at least, their destiny he heard, 

Which was an odd one ; a troop going to act 
In Sicily — all singers, duly rear'd 

In their vocation ; had not been attacked 
In sailing from Livorno by the pirate. 
But sold by the impresario at no high rate.* 

LXXXI* 

By one of these, the bufib of the party, 
Juan was told about their curious case ; 

For although destined to the Turkish mart, he 
Still kept his spirits up — at least his face ; 

The little fellow really look'd quite hearty. 
And bore him with some gaiety and grace, 

Showing a much more reconciled demeanour 

Than did the prima donna and the tenor. 

LXXXII. 

In a few words he told their hapless story. 
Saying, " Our Machiavelian impresario. 

Making a signal off some promontory, 

Hail'd a strange brig ; Corpo di Caio Mario ! 

We were transferred on board her in a hurry, . 

Without a single scudo of salario; 

But if the Sultan has a taste for song, •l-JW 

We will revive our fortunes before long, , ^t all 



LXXXIII. 



h 

one. 



The prima donna, though a little old. 

And haggard With a dissipated life, 
And subject, when the house is thin, to 

Has some good notes ; and then the t\ 
With no great voice, is pleasing to behold uiellosL 

Last carnival she made a deal of stri''^ 
By carrying off Count Cesare Cicorrjells, 
From an old Roman princess at Rowho ca^v 

• Thia i« a fact, 
rcipn Iheaire, 
sold tlicm all. 
s Btrange coincidence^ 
the beginning of 1817. ' \ ~**"** "' a^«x\^ i«, N %\tt&^^ 




168 1>0N JUAN. 



uccav. 



^ And then there are the dancers ; there is the Niniy 
With more than one profession gains by aU ; 

Then there 's that laughing slut the Pelegrini, 
She, too, was fortunate last carnival. 

And made at least five hundred good zecchini, 
But spends so fast, she has not now a paul ; 

And then there 's the Grotesca — such a dancer 

Where men have souls or bodies she must answw* 



** As for the figuranti, they are like 

The rest of all that tribe ; with here and there 

A pretty person, which perhaps may strike. 
The rest are hardly fitted for a fair ; 

There 's one, though tall and stifTer than a pike. 
Yet has a sentimental kind of air 

Which might go far, but she do n't dance with vigour ; 

The more 's the pity, with her face and figure. 

• LXXXVI. 

** As for the men, they are a middling set 
The musico is but a crackM old basin, 
rj'Jut being qualified in one way yet, 

I^May the seraglio do to set his face in, 
gQj-ul as a servant some proferment get ; 

A* nf.®*"e*"p ^ "^ further trust can place in : 
Whom to ^^® Pope * makes yearly 't would perplex 
A Turk ^^^® perfect pipes of the third sex. 

Extremely 

Are what I lxxxvii. 

. oice is spoilt by affectation, 
bass, the beast can only bellow ; 
Id no singing education, 
Don Juan h(*"^» noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow 

From his dull JT*"™* donna's near relation. 
Forlorn, andc^ini voice was very rich and mellow, 

O'ersltffi^'lilbptt^'^^?^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^™ y^^ '^ believe 
Weata^as p«ictaiiM recitative. 



DON 3VJJX. 160 



«• T would not become myself to dwell upon 

My own merits, and though young — 1 see, Sir -« you 

Have got a travell'd air, which speaks you one 
To whom the opera is by no means new : 

Tou 've heard of Raucocanti ? — I 'm the man ; 
The time may come when you may hear me too ; 

Tou was not last year at the fair of Lugo, 

But ncxty when I 'm engaged to sing there — do go. 



* Our baritone I almost had forgot, 

A pretty lad, but bursting with conceit ; 

With graceful action, science not a jot, 

A voice of no groat compass, and not sweet, 

He always is coniplaining of his lot. 

Forsooth, scarce fit for ballads injthe street ; 

In lovers' parts his passion more to breathe, 

Having no heart to show, he siiows his teeth.'' 



XG. 

Here Raucocanti's eloquent recital 

Was interrupted by the pirate crew. 
Who came at stated moments to invite all 

The captives back to their sad l)erths ; each threw 
A rueful glance upon the waves, (which bright all 

From the blue skies derived a double blue. 
Dancing all free and happy in the sun,) 
And then went down the hatchway one by one. 



xci. 

They heard next day — that in the Dardanelloa^ 
Waiting for his Sublimity's firman, 

Tlie most imperative of sovereign spells. 
Which every body does without who can, 

More to secure them in their naval cells. 
Lady to lady, well as man to man. 

Were to be chain 'd and lotted out per coupV^ 

For the slave market of ConstontinopAe. 



170 DON JUAN. OAMMIT. 



xcn. 

It seems when this allotment was made out. 
There chanced to be an odd male, and odd fenale^ 

Who (afler some discussion and some doubt, 
If the soprano might be deem'd to be male. 

They placed him o'er the women as a scout) 
Were link'd together, and it happen'd the male 

Was Juan, who, — an awkward thing at his age 

Pair'd off with a Bacchante blooming visage. 



xcm. 

With Raucocanti lucklessly was chainM 
The tenor ; these two hated with a hate 

Found only on the stage, and each more painM 
With this his tuneful neighbour than his tate ; 

Sad strife arose, for they were so cross-grain'd, 
Instead of bearins: up without del)ate, 

That each pull'd ditierent ways with many an oath, 

** Arcades arabo," id est — blackguards both. 



xciv. 

Juan's companion was a Romagnole, 

But bred within the March of old Ancona, 

With eves that look'd into the verv soul 

(And other chief points of a " IkjIIu donna''), 

Bright — and as black and burning as a coal ; 
And through her clear brunette cutnple\ion shone 

Great wish to please — a most attractive dower, 

Especially when added to the power. 



xcv. 

But all that power was wasted upon him, 

For sorrow o'er each sense held stern command ; 
Her eye might flash on his, but found it dim ; 

And though thus chain'd, as natural her hand 
Touch'd his, nor that — nor any handsome limb 
(And she had some not easy lo withstand) 
Coald stir his pulse, or maVe \\\s ^a\V\i ^f^e\ \srvV(Si^\ 
Perhaps bis recent wounds invg;\\\. VveX^ ^\v\.\\^. 



CmroiT. BON JUAN. 171 



XOVI. 

No matter ; we should ne'er too much inquire, 
^t facts are facts : no knight could be more 

And firmer faith no ladye-love desire ; 
We will omit the proofs, save one or two : 

*T is said no one in hand *' can hold a fire 
By thought of frosty Caucasus ; " but few, 

I really think ; yet Juan's then ordeal 

Was more triumphant, and not much less real. 



xovn. 

Here I might enter on a chaste description. 
Having withstood temptation in my youth. 

But hear that several people take exception 

At the first two books having too much truth; 
(Therefore I '11 make Don Juan leave the ship soon, 
Because the publisher declares, in sooth, 

Through needles' eyes it easier for the camel is 

To pass, than those two cantos into families. / 



XCVIII. 

"T is all the same to me ; I 'm fond of yielding, 
And therefore leave them to the purer page 

Of Smollett, Prior, Ariosto, Fielding, 

Who say strange things for so correct an age; 

I once had great alacrity in wielding 
My pen, and liked poetic war to wage. 

And recollect the time when all this cant 

Would have provoked remarks which now it shan't* 



xcix. 

As boys love rows, my boyhood liked a squabble ; 
But at this hour I wish to part in peace, 

Leaving such to the literary rabble, 

^ Whether my verse's fame be doom'd to cease, 
/While the right hand which wrote it still is able, 
' Or of some centuries to take a lease *, 

The grass upon my grave will grow as \otv^. 
And sigh to midnight winds* but not to soi\^ 



m l>OH JVAH. euno IT. 



Of poets who come down to as through diatanoe 
Of time and tongues, the foster-babes of Fi 

Life seems the smallest portion of existence ; 
Where twenty ages gather o'er a name» 

T is as a snowball which derives assistance 
From every flake, and yet rolls on the same^ 

Even till an iceberg It may chstiice to grow ; 

But| aAer all, 't is nothing but cold snow* 

CI. 

And so great names are nothing more than nominal 

And love of glory 's but an airy lust. 
Too oAen in its fury overcoming all 

Who would as 't were identify their dust 
From out the wide destruction, which, entombing all. 

Leaves nothing till **the coming of the just" — 
Save change : I 've stood upon Acliillcs' tomb, 
And heard Troy doubted ; time will doubt of Romr 

CII. 

The very generations of the dead 

Are swept away, and tomb inherits tomb. 

Until the memory of an age is fled, 

And, buried, sinks beneath its otfspring's doom : 

Where are the epitaphs our fathers read ? 

Save a few glean'd from the sepulchral gloom 

W^liicli once-named myriads nameless lie beneath| 

And lose their own in universal death. 

cm. 

I canter by the spot each aHemoon 

Where perish'd in his fame the hero-boy. 

Who lived too long for men, but died too soon 
For human vanity, the young Do Foix ! 

A broken pillar, not uncouthly hewn, 

But which neglect is hastening to destroy. 

Records Ravenna's carnage on its face, 

While weeds and ordure rankle round the base.* 

* The pUlar wJiich recordg the battle of Ravenna, is abont two milea _ 
thtt dty, on the opposite side of the liver lo \Yve Toai\ vnvc^s Foiii. Gaston 6m 
Foix^ who gained the battle, was kiWed'mil*. xVvexe l«>\ wv \M^«iAftA Vw m ty 
thousaad meaS The prabent state o£ Hub ^aXiar an4 Vavsa ha^MKxdM4\ik%i^ 



canroiT. don juan. ITS 



CIV 

I pass each day where Dante's bones are laid : 
^little cupola, more neat than solemn, 

Protects his dust, but reverence here is paid 

To the bard's tomb, and not the warrior's column : 

The time must come, when both alike decay'd, 
The chieftain's trophy, and the poet's volume. 

Will sink where lie the songs and wars of earth, 

Before Pelides' death, or Homer's birth. 



cv. 

With human blood that column was cemented, 
With human filth that column is defiled, 

As if the peasant's coarse contempt were vented 
To show his loathing of the spot he soil'd : 

Thus is the trophy used, and thus lamented 

Should ever be those blood-hounds, from whose wild 

Instinct of gore and glory earth has known 

Those sufferings Dante saw in hell alone. 



cvi. 

Yet there will still be bards : though fame is smoke, 
Its fumes are frankincense to human thought ; 

And the unquiet feelings, which first woke 

Song in the world, will seek what then they sought , 

As on the beach the waves at last are broke, 

Thus to their extreme verge the passions brought 

Dash into poetry, which is but passion, 

Or at least was so ere it grew a fashion. 



cvii. 

If in the qourse of such a life as was 
At once adventurous and contemplative, 

Men who partake all passions as they pass, 
Acquire the deep and bitter power to give 

Their images again as in a glass, 

And in such colours that they seem to \\v©\ 

You may do right forbidding them to show 'em. 
Bat BpoU (I think) a very pretty poem. 






174 DON JUAH* curroiv. 



Ob ! ye, who moke the fortunes of all books ! 

Benign Ceruleans of the second sex ! 
Who advertise new poems by your looks* 

Tour " imprimatur *' will ye not annex ? 
What! must I go to the oblivious cooks? 

Those Cornish plunderers of Parnassian i( reeks t 
Ah ! must I then the only minstrel be, 
Proscribed from tasting your Castalian tea ! 



cix. 

What ! can I prove ^ a lion " then no more f 
A ball-room bard, a foolscap, hot-press darling t 

To bear the compliments of many a bore, 

And sigh, " I can't get out," like Yorick's starling ; 

Why then I '11 swear, as poet Wordy swore, 

(Because the world won't read him, always snarling) 

That taste is gone, that fame is but a lottery. 

Drawn by the blue-coat misses of a coterie. 



ex. 



>9 



Oh ! «* darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,' 

As some one somewhere sings about the sky, 

And I, ye learned ladies, say of you ; 

They say your stockings are so — (Heaven knows why, 

I have examined lew pair of that hue) ; 
Blue as the garters which serenely lie 

Round the Patrician left-legs, which adorn 

The festal midnight, and the levee morn. 



CXI. 

Yet some of you arc most seraphic creatures — 
But times are alter'd since, a rhyminjr lover, 

You read my stanzas, and I read your features : 
And — b«:t no matter, all those things are over; 

Still 1 have no dislike to learned natures. 

For sometimes such a world of virtues cover ; 

I knew one woman of that purple school. 

The loreliestf chastest, best, but — quite a fbd. 



€A9*0IT. 



DON JVAK. 175 



cxn* 



Humboldt, " the first of travellers," but not 
The last, if late accounts be accurate, 

Invented, by some name I have forgot, 
As well as the sublime discovery's date, 

An airy instrument, with which he sought 
To ascertain the atmospheric state, 

By measuring " the intermiy of blue : " 

Oh, Lady Daphne ! let me measure you ! 



cxin. 

But to the narrative. — The vessel bound 

With slaves to sell off in the capital. 
After the usual process, might be found 

At anchor under the seraglio wall ; 
Her cargo, from the plague being safe and sound. 

Were landed in the market, one and all. 
And there with Georgians, Russians, and CircassianSt 
Bought up for different purposes and passions 



cxiv. 

Some went off dearly ; fifteen hundred dollars 
For one Circassian, a sweet girl, were given, 

Warranted virgin ; beauty's brightest colours 
Had deck'd her out in all the hues of heaven : 

Her sale sent home some disappointed bawlers, 
Who bade on till the hundreds reach'd eleven ; 

But when the offer went beyond, they knew 

'T was for the Sultan, and at once withdrew. 



cxv. 

Twelve negresses from Nubia brought a price 

Which the West Indian market scarce would bring ; 

Though Wilberforce, at last, has made it twice 
What 't was ere Abolition ; and the thing 

Need not seem very wonderful, for vice 

Is always much more splendid than a king : 

The virtues, even the most exalted, Charity, 

Are saving — vice spares nothing for a TafvVy. 



170 DON jUAir. 



ex VI. 



OAMTOIlb 



But for the destiny of this young troop, 
How some were bought by pachas, some by Jew% 

How some to burdens were obliged to stoop. 
And others rose to the command of crews 

As renegadoes ; while in hapless group, 
Hoping no very old vizier might choose, 

The females stood, as one by one they pick'd 'em* 

To make a mistress, or fourth wife, or victim : 



czvu. 

All this must be reserved for further song ; 

Also our hero's lot, howe'er unpleasant 
(Because this Canto has become too long). 

Must be postponed discreetly for the present ; 
I 'm sensible redundancy is wronor, 

But could not for the muse of me put less in *t 
And now delay the progress of Don Juan, 
Till what is callM in Ossian the fiAh Duaa. 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THE FIFTH. 



I. 

Whbit amatory poets sing their loves 

In liquid lines mellifluously bland, 
And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doT6% 

They little think what mischief is in hand; 
The greater their success the worse it proves. 

As Ovid's verse may give to understand ; 
Even Petrarch's sell", if judged with due severity. 
Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity. 

II. 

I therefore do denounce all amorous writing, 

Except in such a way as not to attract ; 
Plain — simple — short, and by no means inviting. 

But with a moral to each error tack'd, 
Form'd rather for instructing than delighting, 

And with all passions in their turn attack'd; 
Now, if my Pegasus should not be shod ill, 
This poem will become a moral model. 

in. 

The European with the Asian shore 

Sprinkled with palaces ; the ocean stream* 

Here and there studded with a seventy-four; 
Sophia's cupola with golden gleam ; 

The cypress groves ; Olympus high and hoar ; 

The twelve isles, and the more than I could dream. 

Far less describe, present the very view 

Which charm'd the charming Mary Montagu. 

* Thii ezprestion of Homer has been much criticitted. It hardly answen ta 
ir Adantic ideas of the ocean, but is sufHcicntly applicable to the KaUev^tfis 
and die Boaphoms, with the £gean intersected wita uAaxidA 



17B DON JUAir. CAXIO V. 



IV. 

I have a passion for the name of ** Mary," "• . 

For once it was a magic sound to me ; "~ 
And still it half calls up the realms of fairyt 

Where I beheld what never was to be ; 
All feelings changed, but this was last to vary, 

A spell from which even yet I am not quite fieei 
But I grow sad — and let a tale grow cold. 
Which must not be pathetically told. 

V. 

• 
The wind swept down the Euxine, and the wave 

Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades ; 
*T is a grand sight from off " the Giant's Grave " • 

To watch the progress of those rolling seas 
Between the Bosphorus, as they lash and lave 

Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease ; 
There 's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in. 
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxioe. 

VI. 

T was a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning. 
When nights are equal, but not so the days ; 

The Parcffi tlien cut short the further spinning 
Of seamen's fates, and the loud tempests raise 

The waters, and repentance for past sinning 
In all, who o'er the great deep take their ways : 

They vow to amend their lives, and vet thcv don't , 

Because il'drown'd, they can't — if spared, they wonU 

vu. 

A crowd of shivering slaves of every nation, 
And age, and sex, were in the market ranged ; 

Each bevy with the merchant in his station : 

Poor creatures ! their good looks were sadly changed* 

All save the blacks seem'd jaded with vexation, 

From friends, and home, and freedom far estranged; 

The negroes more philosophy display 'd, — 

Used to it, no doubt, as eels are to be flay'd. 

* " The Gumt*R Grave " is a height on the Asiatic shore of the 
ameh fnquenied by holiday parties \ Uke Harrow oinl Highgata. 



CAMTO T. DON JUAN. 179 



vm. 

Juan was juvenile, and thus was full, 

As most at his age are, of hope, and health ; 

Yet I must own, he look'd a little dull, 

And now and then a tear stole down hy stealth | 

Perhaps his recent loss of blood might pull 
His spirit down ; and then the loss of wealth, 

A mistress, and such comfortable quarters, 

To be put up for auction amongst Tartars, 



IX* 

Were things to shake a stoic ; ne'ertheless, 
Upon the whole his carriage was serene r 

His figure, and the splendour of his dress, 

Of which some gilded remnants still were seen, 

Drew all eyes on him, giving them to guess 
He was above the vulgar by his mien ; 

And then, though pale, he was so very handsome ; 

And then — they calculated on his ransom. 



X. 

Like a backgammon-l>oard the place was dotted 

With whites and blacks, in groups on show for saleu 

Though rather more irregularly spotted • 

Some bought the jet, while others cnose the pale. 

It chanced amongst the other people lotted, 
A man of thirty, rather stout and hale. 

With resolution in his dark gray eye, 

Next Juan stood, till some might choose to buy. 



XI. 

He had an English look ; that is, was square 
In make, of a complexion white and ruddy, 

Good teeth, with curling rather dark brown hair, 
And, it might be from thought, or toil, or study, 

An open brow a little mark'd with care : 
One arm had on a bandage rather bloody ; 

And there he stood with such sang frovd^ lh;it ^teaitot 

Could scarce be shown even by a mere specloAot 



180 DOH JVAH. eiHI^ Wm 



but seeing at his elbow a mere lad. 

Of a high spirit evidently, though 
At present weigh'd down by a doom which had 

Overthrown even men, he soon began to show 
A kind of blunt compassion for the sad 

Lot of so young a partner in the woe. 
Which for himself he seem'd to deem no worae 
Than any other scrape, a thing of course. 



xni. 

" My boy ! '* — said he, *• amidst this motley crew 
Of Georgians, Russians, Nubians, and what noty 

All ragamutiins differing but in hue. 

With whom it is our hick to cast our lot, 

The only genlleiiitMi seeiu I and you ; 
So let us be acquainted, Jis we ought : 

If I could yield you any consolation, 

'T would give me pleasure. — Pray, what is your nation t 



XIV. 

When Juan answer'd — ** Spanish ! " he replied, 
" I thought, in fact, you could not be a Greek ; 

Those servile dogs are not so proudly eyed ; 
Fortune has play'd you here a pretty freak. 

But that 's her wa}- with all men, till they 're tried ; 
But never mind, — she Ml turn, perhaps, next week; 

She has served nie also much the same as you. 

Except that I have found it nothing new.* 



»» 



XV. 



** Pray, sir," said Juan, " if I may presume. 

What brought you here ? " — " Oh ! nothing very rare. 
Six Tartars and a drag-chain-^—" — "To this doom 

But what conducted, if the question 's fair. 
Is that which I would learn." — " I served for some 
Afonths with the Russian army here and there» 
And taking lately, by SuvrartoVaViv^^^vxi^^ 
A towDf was ta'en myself VnateaA o^VJV^^ii?* 



•IMTO T. 



DON JUAK. 181 



ZYI* 

« Have you no friends ? " — " I had — but, by God's blessing. 
Have not been troubled with them lately. Now 

I have answer'd all your questions without pressing, 
And you an equal courtesy should show." 

" Alas ! " said Juan, " 't were a tale distressing, 
And long besides." — " Oh ! if 't is really so, 

Yeu 're right on both accounts to hold your tongue ; 

A sad tale saddens doubly when 't is long. 



xvn* 

** But droop not : Fortune at your time of life. 
Although a female moderately fickle, 

Will hardly leave you (as she 's not your wife) 
For any length of days in such a pickle. 

To strive, too, with our fate were such a strife 
As if the corn-sheaf should oppose the sickle ; 

Men are the sport of circumstances, when 

The circumstances seem the sport of men. 



99 



XVIII. 



* "T is not," said Juan, " for my present doom 
I mourn, but for the past ; — I loved a maid :"■ 

He paused, and his dark eye grew full of gloom; 
A single tear upon his eyelash staid 

A moment, and then dro[)[)M ; " but to resume, 
*li! is not my present lot, as I have said. 

Which I deplore so much ; for I have borne 

Hardships which have the hardiest overworn, * 



XIX. 

" On the rough deep. But this last blow — " and here 
He stopp'd again, and turn'd away his face. 

" Ay," quoth his friend, " I thought it would appear 
That there had been a lady in the case ; 

And these are things which ask a tender tcai^ 
Such as I, too, would shed if in your p\ace\ 

J cried upon my first wife's dying day, 
Ard also when my second ran away : 



DON JUAH* CAMflW 



<« My third " — "^ Tour third !" qaoth Juan, turning 

round; 

" You scarcely can be thirty : have you three t " 
" No — only two at present above ground : 

Surely U is nothing wonderful to see 
One person thrice in holy wedlock bound ! 

** Well, then, your third," said Juan ; <^ what did she t 
She did not run away, too, — did she, sir ? " 
" No, faith." — «« What then ? " — « I ran away from her." 



» 



** You take things coolly, sir,** said Juan. ** Why," 

Replied the other, *' what can a man do T 
'There still are manv rainl)ow3 in voiir skv, / 

Bu< mine have vanish'd. All, when life is new 

Commence with feelinjjs warm, and prosp^^cts high; 
But time strips our illusions of their hue, 

And one by one in turn, some grand mistake 

Casts off its bright skin yearly, like the snake. 

xxn. 

" *T is true, it gets another bright and fresh, 

Or fresher, brighter ; but the year gone through. 

This skin must go the way, too, of all llesh. 
Or sometimes only wear a week or two ; — 

Love 's the first net which spreads its deadly mesh ; 
Ambition, Avarice, Vengeance, Glory, glue 

The glittering lime-twigs of our latter days, 

Where still we flutter on for pence or praise.** 

xxin. 

«* All this is very fine, and may l)e true," 

Said Juan ; '* but I really do n't see how 
It betters present times with mc or you." 

** No ? " quoth the other ; " yet you will allow. 
By setting things in their right point of view, 

Knowled^e^ at least, is gavu'd \ for instance, now, 
Wc know what slavery is, and out d\9si«i\(M% 
Mav teach us better to behave YfYieii wwAVfcta,^'* 



oum>T. Doir JUAN. 188 



ZXIY. 

** Would we were masters now, if but to try 

Their present lessons on our Pagan friends here," 

Said -Juan — swallowing a heart-burning sigh : 

*' Heaven help the scholar whom his fortune sends hero !" 

** Perhaps we shall be one day, by and by," 

Rojoin'd the other, '< when our bad luck mends here ; 

Meantime (yon old black eunuch seems to eye us) 

I wish to G— d that somebody would buy us ! 



XXV. 

" But after all, what is our present state ? 

*T is bad, and may be better — all men's lot : 
Most men arc slaves, none more so than the great. 

To their own whims anfi passions, and what not ; 
Society itself, which should create 

Kindness, destroys what little we had got : 
To feel for none is the true social art 
Of the world's stoics — men without a heart.** 



. XXVI. 

Just now a Mack old neutral personage 

Of the third sex steppM up, and peering over 

The captives soom'd to mark their looks, and age. 
And capabilities, as Jo discover 

If they were fitted for tlie purposed cage: 
No lady e'er is ogled by a lover. 

Horse by a blackleg, broadcloth by a tailor, 

Fee by a counsel, felon by a jailor, 



XXVII. 

As is a slave by his intended bidder. 

'T is pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; 
And all are to Ikj sold, if vou consider 

Their passions, and are dext'rous ; some by features 
Are bought up, others by a warlike leader, 

Some by a place — as tend their yuara ox Yi«Axixe%\ 
ITie most by ready cash — but all have !pT\eea, 
From crowns to kickSf according to ibeix "v'vcea* 



I :^.4 DON JUAir CANTO V 



xxvrn 

The eunuch having eyed them o'er with care, 
Turn'd to the merchant, and begun to bid 

First but for one, and af\er for the pair ; 

They haggled, wrangled, swore, too — so they iid ! 

As though they were in a mere Christian fair 
Cheapening an ox, an ass, a Iamb, or kid ; 

So that their bargain sounded like a battle 

For this superior yoke of human cattle. 



At last they settled into simple grumblings 
And pulling out reluctant purses, and 

Turning each piece of silver o'er, and tumbling 
Some down, and woighinu others in their hand» 

And by mistsike sequins with paras ju-nbling. 
Until the sum was accurately scannM, 

And then the merchant giving change, and signing 

Receipts in full, began to think of dining. 



XXX. 

I wonder if his appetite was good ? 

Or, if it were, if also his digestion ? 
Methinks at meals some odd thoughts might intrude^ 

And conscience ask a curious sort of question. 
About the right divine how tar we shoulil 

Sell tlosh and blood. When dinner has opprcss'd onoi 
I think it is i>erhaps the gloomiest hour 
Which turns up out of the sad twenty -four. 



XXXI. 

Voltaire savs ** No : " he tells you that Candide 

Found life most tolerable after meals ; 
He 's wrong — unless man were a pig, indeed. 

Repletion rather adds to what he feels, 
Unless he 's drunk, and then no doubt he 's freed 
From his own brain's oppression while it reels. 
Of food I think with PhiVip'a son, ox x^lWt 
Ammoji's (ill pleased with one viorXd «Ji<i oxa^^Sqb£\' 



«A«TOT. DON JUAir. 18ft 



I think with Alexander, that the act 

or eating, with another act or two. 
Makes us feel our mortality in fact 

Redoubled ; when a roast and a ragout, 
And fish, and soup, by some side dishes back'd. 

Can give us either pain or pleasure, who 
Would pique himself on intellects, whose use 
Depends so much upon the gastric juice ? 

XXXIII. 

The other evening ('t was on Friday last) — 

This is a fact, and no poetic fable — 
Just as my great coat was about me cast. 

My hat and gloves still lying on the table, 
I heard a shot, — H was eight o'clock scarce past — 

And, running out as fjist as I was able,* 
I found the rnilitarv commandant 
Stretch'd in the street, and able scarce to pant. 

XXXIV. 

Poor fellow ! for some reason, surely bad. 

They had slain him with five slugs; and left him there 

To perish on the pavement : so I had 

Him borne into the house and up the stair, 

And strippM, and look'd to— But why should I add 

More circumstances? vain was everv care ; 

The man was gone : in some Italian quarrel 

Kiird by five bullets from an old gun-barrel.f 

XXXV. 

I gazed upon him, for I knew him well ; 

And though I have seen many corpses, never 
Saw one, whom such an accident befell, [liver 

So calm ; though pierced through stomach, heart, and 
He seem'd to sleep, — for you could scarcely tell 

(As he bled inwardly, no hideous river 
Of gore divulged the cause) that he was dead : 
So as I gazed on him, I thought or said — 

• The assawination alluded to took place on the 8ih of Decencber^ 1820^ 
ID the itreeta o^ Ravenna, not a hundred paces fromihe Tc«i^civc« <:^1\)eia >KT^M«t. 
The circumBtancea were as described. 

f There was foand close by him an old Run-barreL tavmV^ ^^ *. ^\»^*V 
Am0 diecf vgedf and waa quite viurm. 



186 DON JUAH. 



^ Can this be death ? then what is life or death t 

Speak ! " but he spoke not : ** wake ! " but still he slept : 

But yesterday and who liad mightier breath t 
I A thousand warriors by his word were kept 

In awe : he suid, as the centurion saith, . 

' Go,' and he goeth ; * come,' and forlh he stepp'd. \ 

The trump and hugle till he spake were dumb — 

And now nought letl him but the muffled drum." 



XXXVII. 

And they who waited once and worshipp'd — they 

With tlieir rough faces throng'd about the bed 
To gaze once more on the coinnmnding clay 

Wliich for liio \n>i, tliuiiirh not the first, time bled 
An:! i>(ich an oiid I that \u'. wliu inanv a dav 

Had ihcoil Napult'on's fncs until iin.*y fled, — 
The fofi.'inujst in ilip char^jf or in the sallv, 
Should now be butchcr'd in a civic allev. 



XXXVIII. 

The scars of his old woiiHils wore near liis new, 
Those lior.oural^le scars which hroti«jht him fame ; 

And horrid was the contrast to the view 

But let nie (j ilt the tljente : as such things claim 

Perhaps t.vrn more attention than is due 

From me : 1 jjazed (as oi't 1 have gazed the same) 

To try if I could wrench aught out of death, 

Which should conlirm, or shake, or make a faith ; 



XXXIX. 

But it was all a mystery. Here we are, 

And there we go : — but where ? five bits of leadf 

Or three, or two, or one, send very far ! 

And is this hlood, then, IbrmM hut to be shed ' 

Can everv element our elements mar? 
And air — earth — water — fire live — and we dead ? 

JfCf whose minds compreUend aYL VVivii%^\ "^oTswsift*, 
But let us to the story as beCoro. 



oAjfMT. Dorr JVAN. 197 



'Vhe purchaaer of Juan and acquaintance 
Bore oflT his. bargains to a gilded boat, 

Embark'd himself and them, and off they went thenco 
As fast as oars could pull and water float ; 

They look*d like persons being led to sentence. 
Wondering what next, till the caique was brought 

Up in a little creek below a wall 

O ertopp'd with cypresses, dark-green and tall. 



XLI. 

Here their conductor tapping at the wicket 

Of a small iron door, t' was openM, and 
He led them onward, first through a low thicket 

FlankM by larfje groves, which towerM on either hand ; 
Tliey almost lost their way, and had to pick it — 

For night was closing ere they came to land. 
The eunuch made a sign to those on board. 
Who row'd off, leaving them without a word. 



XLII. 

As thoy were plodding on their winding way. 

Through orange bowers, and jasmine, and so forth : 

(Of which I might have a good deal to say. 
There being no such profusion in the North 

Of Oriental plants, " ct cietcra," 

But that of late your scribblers think it worth 

Their wiiile to rear whole hotbeds in their works 

Because one poet travell'd 'mongst the Turks :) 



XLin. 

As thev wore threading on tlieir way, there came 
Into Don Juan's head a thought, which he 

Whisper'd to his companion : — 't was the same 
Which might have then occurrM to you or me. 

** Methinks," — said he, — " it would be no great «Vv»Xtt^ 
If we should strike a stroke to sot us free ; 

Let 's knock that old black fellow on the\\ead« 
And march away4-*t were easier done IVislxx ^&*'^ 



188 Bon jVAir. 



zuv. 



«* Yes," said the other, ** and when done, what tben T 
Haw get out ? how the devil got we in ? 

And when we once were fairly out, and when 

From Saint Bartholomew we have saved our ekillf 

To-morrow 'd see us in some other den, 
And worse off than we hitherto have been ; 

Besides, I'm hungry, and just now would takOf 

Like Esau, for my birthright a beef-steak. 



ZLV. 

^ We must be near some place of man's abode ; — 
For tlie old negro's confidence in creeping. 

With his two captives, by so queer a road, 

Shows that lie thinks his tViends have not been sleeping ^ 

A single cry wouhl bring them all abroad : 

'T is tliLTetlirc better loolving bcfort^ leaping — 

And there, you see, this turn has brouirht us through, 

By Jove, a noble palace ! — lighted too/ 



99 



XL VI. 

It was ind(jed a wide extensive buildins: 

Which open'd on their view, and o*er the front 

Tiiere secniM to be Iw^prent a deal of gilding 
And various hues, as is the Turkish wont, — 

A gaudy taste; tor they are little skill'd in 

Tiie arts of wiiich these lands were once the font 

Each villa on the Bosphonis looks a screen 

New painted, or a pretty opera-scene. 



XLVII. 

And nearer as they came, a genial savour 

Of certain stews, and roast-nieats, and pilaos, 
Things which in hungry mortals' eyes find favour^ 

Made Juan in his liarsh intentions pause, 
And put himself upon his guod behaviour : 

His fricad, too, adding a iv^w ^ii\V(\% c\%»a^ 
Said, " In Heaven's name Wa ^^X sovna «o^>^ 
And then Vm with you, rf ^ou't^w ^ w«» 



T. DON JVAlf* ^%) 



XLVUI. 

Some talk of an appeal unto some passion. 
Some to men's feelings, others to their reason 

The last of these was never much the fashion. 
For reason thinks all reasoning out of season. 

Some speakers whine, and others lay the lash onf 
But more or less continue still to tease on, 

With arguments according to their " forte ; " 

But no one ever dreams of being short, — 



XLIX. 

But I digress : of all appeals, — although 
I grant the power of pathos, and of gold, 

Of beauty, flattery, threats, a shilling, — no 
Method 's more sure at moments to take hold 

Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow 
More tender, as we every day behold. 

Than that all-softening, overpowering knell. 

The tocsin of the soul — the dinner-bell. 



L. 

Turkey contains no bells, and yet men dine ; 

And Juan and his friend, albeit they heard 
No Christian knoll to table, saw no line 

Of lackeys usher to the feast prepared, 
Yet smelt roast-meat, beheld a huge fire shine. 

And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared 
And gazed around them to the left and right 
With the prophetic eye of appetite. 



LI. 

And giving up all notions of resistance, 

They followed close behind their sable guide. 
Who little thought that his own crack'd existence 

Was on the point of being set aside : 
He motion'd them to .stop at some small distaivc^ 
And knocking at the gate, *t was operfd md<ft^ 
And a magnificent large hall displayed 
The Asian pomp of Ottoman parade. 



IM DOK jva:?. onrrftT. 

LII. 

I won't describe ; description is my fortey 
But every fool describes in these bright da3r8 

His wond'rous journey to some foreign courti 

And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise— 

Deatl) to his publisher, to him 't is sport ; 

While Nature, tortured twenty thousand ways, 

Resigns herself with exemplary patience 

To guide-books, rhymes, tours, sketches, illuBtrationo. 

Lin. 
Along this hall, and up and down, some, squatted 

Upon their hams, were ocpupied at chess ; 
Others in monosyllable talk chatted, 

And some secm'd much in love with their own dreH. 
And divers smoked su|)erb pipes decorated 

With amber mouths of greater price or less; 
And sL-vtTiil slrultL-d, uIIkts slept, and some 
Prepared i'or suj>per with a gliiss of rum.* 

LFV. 

As the black eunuch entcrM with his brace 
Of purchased Infidels, some niised their eyes 

A moment without slackening from their pace; 
But those who sate, ne'er stirr'd in any wise: 

One or two stared the captives in the face. 
Just as one views a horse to guess his price; 

Souk.' nudded to thc'heiiro from their station, 

But no one troubled him with conversation. 

LV, 

He leads tliem through the hall, and, without stopping. 
On thnjugh a iarther range of goodly rooms. 

Splendid but silent, save in o/ic, wliere, dropping,f 
A marble tbuntain echoes through the glooms 

Of night, which robe the chamber, or where popping 
Some temalc head most curiously presiimes 

To thrust its black eyes through the door or lattice. 

As wondering what the devil noise that is. 

• In Tnrhoy noihine is more common than for the Mussulmans to takm 

■everal glasito*- of >iniiiir 8pirii> by way ol* nppciizer. I have seen them Xakm 

HH many a.s f'w otraki luMore ilinncr, and swear that they ilincti the better for it; 

J tried the pxpi'ritiicni, bni larod like the ^Srotclunaii, who bavin;r heanl that tha 

Mrda ciillpil kit:i\\:.kt's were udniirahW wUeiA, «i\q ^xxoC iheiOi aiKi cumplaiaad 

iJmt **A^ m/s NO hunjriti- than uhtn kt U L'ti"-" 

^ A common furniture. — I rccoUcci being teccw^^ Vj i^ ''^^(^^V^^ 

tfoni&uiiDga, marbiv baiiin, and fountaiii, &c. &c, &.t. 



¥. 



BOM JUAN. 19 I 



LVI. 



Some faint lamps gleaming from the lofty walls 
Gave light enough to hint their farther way. 

But not enough to show the imperial halls 
In all the flashing of their full array ; 

Perhaps there 's nothing — I '11 not say apgals. 
But saddens more by night as well as day. 

Than an enormous room without a soul 

To break the lifeless splendour of the whole. 



Lvn. 

Two or three seem so little, one seems nothing : 
In deserts, forests, crowds, or by the shore, 

There solitude, wc know, has her full growth in 
The spots wliich were her reahns for evermore : 

But in a mighty hall or gallery, both in 

More modern buildings and those built of yore, 

A kind of death comes o'er us all alone. 

Seeing what 's meant for many with but one. 



LVIII. 

A neat, snug study on a winter's night, 
A book, friend, single lady, or a glass 

Of claret, sandwich, and an appetite. 

Are things which make an English evening pass; 

Though certes by no means so grand a sight 
As is a theatre lit up by gas. 

I pass my evenings in long galleries solely. 

And that 's the reason I 'm so melancholy. 



LIX. 

Alas ? man makes that great which makes him little : 

I grant you in a church 't is very well : 
What speaks of Heaven should by no means be brittle 

But strong and lasting, till no tongue can tell 
Their names who rear'd it ; but huge houses fit ill — 
I And hu^o tombs worse — mankind, aVwce KAaiuv ^^\ 
fMethinks the story of the towers of BabeV 
Might teach them this much better tUau 1 ^ta i\A^% x 



■s 



193 ]>ON juah; 



' Babel was Nimrod's hunting-box; and then 

A town of gardens, walls, and wealth amaKin^ 

Where Nabuchadonosor, king of men, 
Reign'd, till one summer's day he took to grasdngp 

And Daniel tamed the lions in their den, \ 
The people's awe and admiration raising ; 

T was famous, too, for Thisbe and for Pyrmmui^ 

And the calumniated queen Semiramis. 



Lxn. 

But to resume, — should there be (what may not 
Be in these days ?) some intidels, who don't,^ 

Because they can't find out the very spot 
■Of that same Babel, or because thev won't 

(Though Claudius Rich, Esquire, sonic bricks has go^ 
And written lately two memoirs upon 't,) 

Believe the Jews, those unbelievers, who 

Must be believed, though they believe not you 



Lxm. 

Yet let them think that Horace has express'd 
Shortly and sweetly the masonic folly 

Of those, forgetting the great place of rest. 
Who give themselves to architecture wholly ; 

We know where things and men must end at best: 
A moral (like all morals) melancholy, 

And ** Et sepulchri immemor struis doraos ' 

Shows that we build when we should but entomb us 



OiMTOT. 



DON JUAN. 108 



LXIY. 



At last they reach'd a quarter most retired. 
Where echo woke as if from a long slumber ; 

Though full of all things which could be desirody 
One wonder'd what to do with such a number 

Of articles which nobody required ; 

Here wealth had done its utmost to encumber 

With furniture an exquisite apartment, 

Which puzzled Nature much to know what Art meant. 



LZY. 

It seem'd, however, but to open on 

A range or suite of further chambers, which 

Might lead to heaven knows where ; but in this one 
The moveables were prodigally rich : 

Sofas 't was half a sin to sit upon, 

So costly were they ; carpets every stitch 

Of workmanship so rare, that made you wish 

You could glide o'er them like a golden fish. 



LXVI. 

The black, however, without hardly deigning 

A glance at that which rapt the slaves in wonder, 

Trampled what they scarce trod for fear of staining. 
As it* the milky way their feet was under 

With all its stars ; and with a stretch attaining 
A certain press or cupboard niched in yonder— 

In that remote recess which you may see— 

Or if you do n't, the fault is not in me,* 



Lxvn. 

I wish to be perspicuous ; and the black 
I say, unlocking the recess, pull'd forth 

A quantity of clothes fit for the back 
Of any Mussulman, whate'er his worth 

And of variety there was no lack — 

And yet, though I have said there was no dearth^ 

He chose himself to point out what he thought 

Moat orooer for the Cluristians he had bou^xl. 



194 DON JUAN. eun#v. 



Lxvni. 

The suit he thought most suitable to each 
Was, for the eliler and the stouter, first 

A Candiotc cloak, which to the knee might reach. 
And trowsers not so ti^ht that they would bunt. 

Hut such as tit an Asiatic hrccch ; 

• A shawl, whose tbids in Cashmire had been nuratt 

Slippers ol'satiron, dagger rich and handy; 

In tfhorty all things which form a Turkish dandj. 



While he was dressing, Baba, their black friend. 
Hinted the vast advantages which thev 

Mi<rht probably obtain lK)th in the end, 
It'ilifV woiil.l hill imrsiif the pn>r.-'r way 

VVliich F(.>rtuiK; plainly simmiiM lo itcohiisimkI ; 
And then he a<liliMl, that he notnls inii<l say, 

**'T wuuhl greatly tend to bettor their condition, 

If thev would condescend to circumcision. 



LXX. 

** For his own part, he really should rejoice 
To si'e them true b»'lievors, but no less 

WonlJ leave his propo>iiif)n to ih^ir choice." 
T!»e t>tln.'r, tnankin<; him for this excess 

Of goodness, in thus loavinir them a voice 
In such a trifle, scan*ely couKl express 

** Sufbcienlly " (lie said) *» his approbation 

Of all the customs of this polisii'd nation. 



LXXI. 



** For bis own share — be saw but small objection 

To so res{>ecrable an ancient rite ; 
And, after swallow in^r down a slight refection. 

For which he ownM a pn»sent app(;tite. 
He d<nibted not a lew hours of reflection 
IVouhi reconcile him to l\\e bvvsiucss c\uite.** 
^ Will it 1 " said Juan, shat^jW •. '* SvivVwi wa ^»ui« 
But they as soon shall ciTCumclae ro^ \\«a^\ 



mmro t. don juah. 195 



" Cut off a thousand heads, before " — " Now, pray,** 

Replied the other, ** do not interrupt : 
You put me out in what I had to say. 

Sir ! — as I said, as soon as I have 8upp'd« 
I shall perpend if your proposal may 

Be such as I can properly accept ; 
Provided always your great goodness still 
Remits the matter to our own free-will." 



LXXIU. 

Baba eyed Juan, and said << Be so good 

As dress yourself — " and pointed out a suit 

In which a Princess with great pleasure would 
Array her limbs; but Juan standing mute, 

As not being in a nias(|nerading mood, 

Gave it a slight kick with his Christian foot ; 

And when the old negro told him to " Get ready, 

Replied, " Old gentleuian, I 'ra not a lady." 



n 



LXXIV. 

** What you may be, I neither know nor care," 
Said Baba ; " but pray do as I desire : 

I have no more time nor many words to spare." 
"At least," said Juan, "sure I may inquire 

The cause of this odd travestv ? " — " Forbear," 
Said Baba, " to be curious ; 't will transpire. 

No doubt, in proper place, and time, and season ; 

I have no authority to tell the reason." 



LXXV. 

"Then if I do," said Juan, "I '11 be '' —^ Hold!" 

Rejoin'd the negro, " pray be not provoking ; 

This spirit 's well, but it may wax too bold. 
And you will find us not too fond of joking." 

"What, sir! " said Juan, "shall it e'er be told 
That J unsex'd my dress ] " But Baba, sltoV\xi% 

Tie things down, said, " Incense me, aiid \ c«XL 
TTiose who will leave you of no taeiL at a\l* 



196 DCCX JUAR. 



LXZTI. 



^ I ofier you a handsome suit of clothes : 
A woinan^s, true ; but then there is a cause 

Why you should wear them." — ** What, though my soul 
loathes 
The etfominatc garb?" — thus, after a short paiuoi 

Sigh'd Juan, muttering also some slight oaths» 
*' What the devil shull I do with all this gauze t" 

I'hus he profanely term'd the finest lace 

Which e'er set off a marriage-morning face. 

LXXTII. 

And then he swore ; and, sigliing, on he slippM 

A pair of trowsers of flcsh.colour'd silk ; 
Next with a virgin zone ho was equipp'd. 

Which girt a blight cliemisc as white as milk ; 
But tncrging on liis petticoat, he trii)pM, 

Which — as we say — or, as the Scotch say, tchUkf 
(The rhyme obliges me to this ; sometimes 
Monarclis are less imperative than rhymes) — 

Lxxvin. 

Whilk, which (or what yo\i please), was owing to 
His garment's novelty, and his being awkward : 

And vet at last he manaired to jrct t)irou(;h 
His toilet, though no doulit a little backward: 

The negro Baha help'd a little too, 

When some untoward part of raiment stuck hard 

And, wrestling both his arms into a gown. 

He paused, and took a survey up and down. 

LXXIX. 

One difficulty still remained — his hair 

Was hardly long enough ; but Baba found 

So many false lon;j tresses all to spare, 

That soon his head was most completely crown'd 

After the manner then in fashion there ; 

And this addition with such gems was bound 

As suited the ensemble of his toilet. 

While Baba made him comb his head and oil it« 



lUROT. 



DON JUAN. 107 



And now being femininely all array'd, 

With some small aid from scissors, paint, and tweezerii 
He look'd in almost all respects a maid, 

And Baba stnilingly exclaim'd, " You see, sirs, 
A perfect transformation here displayed ; 

And now, then, you must come along with me, sirs* 
That is — the Lady : '* — clapping his hands twicey 
Four blacks were at his elbow in a trice. 



LXXXI. 

" You, sir," said Baba, nodding to the one, 
" Will please to accompany those gentlemen 

To Slipper ; but you, worthy Christian nun. 
Will follow me : no tritiing, sir; for when 

I say a tiling, it must ut once be done. 

What feiir you ? think you this a lion's dent 

Why 't is a palace ; where the truly wise 

Anticipate the Prophet's paradise. 



LXXXII. 

" You foe ! I tell you no one means you harm.'* 
" So much the better," Juan said, " for them ; 

Else they shall feel the weight of this my arm, 
Which is not quite so light as you may deem. 

I yield thus far; hut soon will break the charm 
If anv take me for that which I seem : 

So that I trust for every body's sake, 

That this disguise may lead to no mistake." 



LXXXIII. 

•* Blockhead ! come on, and see," qiioth Baba ; while 
Don Juan, turning to his comrade, who 

Though somewhat grieved, could scarce forbear a smile 
Upon the metamorphosis in view, — 

" Farewell ! " they nmtually exclaim'd : " this soi 
Seems fertile in adventures strange and new ; 

One 's tum'd half Mussulman, and one a maid. 

By this old black enchanter's unsougbl avd«*^ 



198 ooir JUAH. 



JJOHVm 



^ Farewell ! '' said Juan : << should we meet no mom, 

I wish you a good appetite." — ** Farewell ! '* 
Replied the other ; ** though it grieves roe sore; 
\Vhen we next meet, we 'II have a tale to tell : 
We needs must follow when Fate puts from shore. 
" \ Keep your good name ; though Eve herself once fell." 
** Nay," quoth the maid, ** the Sultan's self shan't carry 
Unless his highness promises to marry me." [me. 

LXXXV. 

And thus they parted, each by separate doors ; 

Baba led Juan onward room by room 
Through glittering galleries, and o'er marble floors. 

Till a gigantic portal throu*ili the gloom, 
Haughty and huge, along the distance lowers ; 

And waftod far arose a rich perfume : 
It seein'd as though they came u[)on a slirine, 
For all was vast, still, fragrant, and divine. 

LXXXVI. 

The giant door was broad, and bright, and high. 
Of gilded bronze, and carved in curious guise; 

Warriors thereon were hattlinrr furiouslv ; 

Here stalks the victor, thrre the vanquish*d lies; 

There captives led in triumph droop the eye. 
And in perspectivi? many a s<piadron flies : 

It seems the work of tini«^s before the line 

Of Rome transplanted fell with Constantine. 

I^XXVII. 

This massy portal stood at the wide close 

Of a huge hall, and on its either side 
Two little dwarfs, the least you could suppose, 

Were sate, Lko ugly imps, as if allied 
In mockery to the enormous gate which rose 

O'er them in almo-jt pyrainidic pride : 
The gate so splendid was in all its features,* 
You never thought about those little creatures, 

* Finhures of a gate —a, ministerial metaphor: **■ the featurr upon wUeh Ata 
—^11 Aijiget."^-See th« " Fudge Family,'* or hear CMdereaghT 



manor. 



j>oif juAir. 190 



Until you nearly trod on them, and then 
You started back in horror to survey 

The wondrous hideousness of those small men, 
Whose colour was not black, nor white, nor gray, 

But an extraneous mixture, which no pen 
Can trace, although perhaps the pencil may ; 

They were mis-shapen pigmies, deaf and dumb— >- 

Monsters, who cost a no less monstrous sum. 



LXXXIX. 

Their duty was — for they were strong, and though 
They look'd so little, did strong things at times ~- 

To ope this door, which they could really do. 
The hinges being as smooth as Rogers' rhymes; 

And now and then, with tough strings of the bow, 
As is the custom of those Eastern climes. 

To give some rebel Pacha a cravat ; 

For mutes are generally used for that. 



xc. 

Tliey spoke by signs — tliat is, not spoke at all ; 

And looking like two incuhi, they glared 
As Baba with his fiiiixors made them fall 

To heaving back the portal folds : it scared 
Juan a moment, as this pair so small, 

With shrinking serpent optics on him stared; 
It was as if their little looks could poison 
Or fascinate whomever they fix'd their eyes on* 



xci. 

Before they entcr'd, Baba paused to hint 

To Juan some slight lessons as his guide 
" If you could just contrive," he said, " to stint 

That somewhat manly majesty of stride, [in 't) 

nr would be as well, and, — (though there's not much 

To swing a little less from side to side. 
Which has at times an aspect of the oddest ; — 
And ako could you look a little modedl, 



200 DON JUAir. 



zcn. 



CAino «i 



** T would be convenient ; for these mutes have eyas 
Like needles, which may pierce those petticoats ; 

And if they should discover your disguise. 

You know how near us the deep Bosphorus floati ; 

And you and I may chance, ere morning rise. 
To find our way to Marmora without boats, 

Stitch'd up in sacks — a mode of navigation 

A good deal practised here upon occasion." 



XCIII. 

With this encouragement, he led the way 
Into a room still nobler than the last ; 

A rich confusion formM a disarray 

In such sort, tliat the eve along it cast 

CoiiUl liardlv carrv anv tiling awav, 

01>jeet on oUjoct llashM so bri<jht and fast^ 

A dazzling mass oftrt'ins, and gold, and glitter, 

Magniticently mingled in a litter. 



zciv. 

Wealth had done wonders — taste not much ; such things 

Occur in Orient palaces, and even 
In tlie more cliasten'd domes of Western kin^rs 

(Ot' wliicli I have also si-en some six or seven) 
Wlu-re I can't say or gold or diamond tlings 

Great lustre, tliere is much to l)e forgiven; 
Groups of bad statues, tables, chairs, and pictures. 
On which I cannot pause to make my sirictures. 



xcv. 

In tills imperial bull, at distance lay 

Under a canopy, and there reclined 
Quite in a conlidcnlial queenly way, 

A lady ; Baba sto|)p'd, and kneeling sign'd 
To Juan, who though not much used to prav. 

Knelt down by instinct, wondering in his mind 
What all this meant : while Baba bow'd and bended 
His head, until the ceremony ended. 



fOT. DOIV JVAV* 



XOVI. 



The lady rising up with such an air 

As Venus rose with from the wave, on them 

Bent like an antelope a Paphian pair 

Of eyes, which put out each surrounding gem; 

And raising up an arm as moonlight fair, 
She sign'd to Baba, who first kiss'd the hem 

Of her deep purple robe, and speaking low 

Pointed to Juan, who remain'd below* 



xcvn. 

Her presence was as lofty as her state ; 

Her beauty of that overpowering kind, 
Whose force description only would abate : 

I 'd rather leave it much to vour own mind. 
Than lessen it by what I could relate 

Of funns and f(;atures ; it would strike you blind 
Could 1 do justice to the full detail ; 
So, luckily for both, my phrases fail. 



XCVIII. 

Thus much however I may add, — her years 

Were ripe, they might make six-and-twenty springs. 

But there are forms which Time to touch forbears, 
And turns aside his scythe to vulgar things, 

Such as was Mary's Queen of Scots ; true — tears 
And love destroy ; and sapping sorrow wrings 

Charms from the charmer, yet some never grow 

Ugly ; for instance — Ninon de I'Enclos. 



xcix. 

She spake some words to her attendants, who 
Composed a choir of girls, ten or a dozen, 

And were all clad alike ; like Juan, too. 
Who wore their uniform, by Baba chosen : 

They form'd a very nymph-like looking crew. 

Which might have call'd Diana's chorus " cousin," 

As fkr as outward show may correspond , 

I won't be bail for any thing beyond* 



DON JUAir* CAim»V. 



O. 



They bow'd obeisance and withdrew, retiring. 
But not by the same door through which came i 

Baba and Juan, which last stood admiring. 
At some small distance, all he saw within 

This strange saloon, much fitted for inspiring 
Marvel and praise ; for both or none things wia ; 

And I must say, I ne'er could see the very 

Great happiness of the ** Nil Admirari.'' 



CI. 

** Not to admire is all the art I know 

(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowefs of qieeoli) 

To make men happy, or to keep them so ; " 

(So take it in tlie ve^ry words of Creech). 
Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago ; 

And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach 
From his tran>lation ; hut liad none admired^ 
Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired? 



cu. 

Baba, when all the damsels were withdrawn, 
Motion'd to Juan to approach, and then 

A second time desired him to kneel down, 

And kiss the ladv's foot : which maxim when 

He heard repeated, Juan with a trown 
Drew himself up to his lull height a^ain. 

And said, "It grieved him, but he could not stood 

To any shoe, unless it shod tlie Poj)e." 



cnr. 

Baba, indignant at this ill-timed pride. 

Made fierce remonstrances, and then a threat 

He mutterM (hut the last was given aside) 
About a bow-strini; — quite in vain : not yet 

Would Juan bend, though 't were to Mahomet's bride: 
There 's nothing in the world like etiquetle 

In kingly chambers or imperial halls, 

As also at the race and county balls. 



•4OTOT. DOir JUAir. 



CIV. 



He stood like Atlas, with a world of words 
About his ears, and nathless would not bend ; 

The blood of all his hne's Castilian lords 
BoilM in his veins, and rather than descend 

To stain his pedigree a thousand swords 
A thousand times of him had made an end ; 

At length perceiving the " foot " could not stand, 

Baba proposed that he should kiss the hand. 



cv. 

Here was an honourable compromise, 

A half-way house of diplomatic rest, 
Where they might meet in much more peaceful guise ; 

And Juan now his willingness expressed, 
To use all fit and proper courtesies, 

Adding, that this was commonest and best, 
For through the South, the custom still commands 
The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands. 



n* 



fcvi. 

And he advanced, thougli with but a bad grace, 
Though on more iliorougk-hred * or fairer fingers 

No lips e'er left their transitory trace : 

On such as these the lip too fondly lingers. 

And for one kiss would fain iuiprint a brace, 
As you will see, if she you love shall bring hers 

In contact ; and sometimes even a fair stranger's 

An almost twelvemonth's constancy endangers. 



cvii. 

The lady eyed him o*er and o'er, and bade 

Baba retire, which he obey'd in style, 
As if well-used to the retreating trade ; 

And taking hints in good part all the while. 
He whisper'd Juan not to be afraid, 

And looking on him with a sort of smile. 
Took leave, with such a face of satisfaction. 
As good men wear who have done a virtuous action. 

There n nothing, perhaps, more diftinctive of birth than the hand. Ukft 
' the only sign of blood which ariBtocracy can geneTaX«. 



804 DON JUAN. 



Gvni. 



When ho was gone, there Was a sudden change : 
I know not what might be the lady's thought^ 

But o'er her bright brow flash'd a tumult strange^ 
And into her clear cheek the blood was brought^ 

Blood-red as sunset summer clouds which range 

The verge of Heaven ; and in her large eyes wrought 

A mixture of sensations, might be scann'd. 

Of half- voluptuousness and half conunand. 



en. 

Her fonn had all the soAness of her sex, 
Her features air the sweetness of the devil, 

Wlien he put on the elierub to perplex 

Eve, and puvcd (God knuws how) the road to evil; 
The sun hiiiis<*lf was scarcf? more free from specks 

Than she from aught at wliich the eye could cavil ; 
Yet, somehow, there was something somewhere wanting, 
As if she rather ordered than was granting, — 



ex. 

Something imperial, or unperious, threw 
A chain o'er all she did ; that is, a chain 

Was thrown as 't were about the neck of you,— 
Ami rapturous self will seem almost a pain 

With aught which looks like despotism in view: 
Our souls at least are tree, and 't is in vain 

We would against them make tlie Hesh obey — 

The spirit in the end will have its way. 



CXI. . 

Her very smile was haughty, though so sweet ; 

Her very nod was not an inclination ; 
There was a self-will even in her small feet, 

As though they were quite conscious of her statioa** 
They trod as upon necks ; and to complete 
Her state (it is the cuslom o^ Uei w\\.Uon), 
A poniard deck'd her g*iTd\e, aa V\\e av^iv 
Bhe was a sultan's bride, (^l\\auVL¥L«s^>«k,iiQ^isaMK^ 



CtfraOT. DON JUAir. 



Gxn. 



^ To hear and to obey " had been from birth 

The law of all around her ; to fulfil 
All phantasies which yielded joy or mirth, 

Had been her slaves' chief pleasure, as her will ; 
Her blood was high, her beauty scarce of earth : 

Jud^e, then, if her caprices e'er stood still ; 
Had she but been a Christian, I 've a notion 
We should have found out the *' perpetual motion.** 



cxin. 

Whatever she saw and coveted was brougnt ; 

Whatever she did not see, if she supposed 
It might be seen, with diligence was sought. 

And when 't was found straightway the bargain closed 
There was no end unto the things she bought. 

Nor to the trouble which her fancies caused ; 
Yet even her tyranny had such a grace. 
The women pardon'd all except her face. 



CXIT. 

Juan, the latest of her whims, had caught 
Her eye in passing on his way to sale ; 

She ordered him directly to be bought. 

And Baba, who had ne'er been known to fail 

In any kind of mischief to be wrought. 

At all such auctions knew how to prevail : 

She had no prudence, but he had ; and thia 

Explains the garb which Juan took amiss. 

cxv. 

His youth and features favoured the disguise. 
And, should you ask how she,^ a sultan's bride, 

Could risk or compass such strange phantasies. 
This I must leave sultanas to decide : 

Emperors are only husbands in wives' eyes, 
And kings and consorts ofl arc mystVCied, 

As we may ascertain with due precision. 
Some by experience^ oih^TB by trad'itVoiu 



DON JUAN. euHQr. 



oxn. 



But to the main point, where we have been *^"Hlipg 
She now conceived all difficulties past, 

And deem'd herself extreme! y condescending 
When, being made her property at last, 

Without more preface, in iier blue eyes blending 
Passion and power, a glance on him she cast. 

And merely saying, " Christian, canst thou love T " 

Conceived that phrase was quite enough to move* 



cxvn. 

And so it was, in proper time and place ; 
But Juan, who had still his mind overflowing 

With Ilaidee's isle ami soft Ionian face, 

Fflt the uariii hlood. whirl) in liis face was glowing^ 
Rush back u|)on his heart, \\hich fill'd apace, 

And left his cheeks as pale as snowdrops blowing: 
These words went through his soul like Arab-spearSi 
So that he spoke not, but burst iiito tears. 



CXVIII. 

She was a good deal shock'd ; not shock'd at tears. 
For women shed and use them at their liking; 

But there is soniething when man's eye appears 
Wet, slill more di>ugreeable and striking;: 

A woman's tear-drop melts, a man's half sears. 
Like molten lead, as if you thrust a pike in 

His heart to force it out, for (to be shorter) 

To them 't is a relief, to us a torture. 



ri^ 



CXIX. 

And she w*ould have consoled, but knew not now: 

IIa\ ing no equals, nothing which had e'er 
Infected her with sympathy till now. 

And never having dreamt what *t was to bear 
Aught of a serious, sorrowing kind, although 
There might arise some \>ouVvt\^ ^tty care 
To cross her brow, she wonAet^A \\ovj «o x^^a 
Her ores uno therms eye couYd aVie^i ^ \ft^t. 



OAtfrO T. 



DON JUAIf. Wt 



CXX. 

But nature teaches more than power can spoil. 
And, when a strong although a strange sensation 

Moves — female hearts are such a genial soil 
For kinder feelings, whatsoe'er their nation. 

They naturally pour the <* wine and oil,'' 
Samaritans in every situation ; 

And thus Gulbeyaz, though she knew not why. 

Felt an odd glistening moisture in her eye. 



cxxi. 

But tears must stop like all things else ; and soon 
Juan, who for an instant had been moved 

To such a sorrow by the intrusive tone 

Of one who dared to ask if " he Jmd loved," 

Call'd back tlie stoic to his eyes, which shone 
Bright with the very weakness he reproved; 

And although sensitive to beauty, he 

Felt inost indignant still at not being free. 



CXXII. 

Gulbeyaz, for the first time in her days, 
Was much embarrass'd, never havinff met 

In all her life with aiijxht save prayers and praise; 
And as she also risk'd her life to get 

Him whom slie meant to tutor in love's ways 
Into a comfortable tt^te-a-tete, 

To lose the hour would make her quite a martyr^ 

And they had wasted now almost a quarter. 



CXXIII. 

I also would suggest the fittinj? time 
To gentlemen in any such like case. 

That is to say — in a meridian clime, 

With US there is more law given to the chaset 

But here a small delay forms a great crime ; 
So recollect that the extremest grace 

Is just two minutes for your declaration — 
A moment more would hurt your reputation. 



208 DOIf JUAir. GOITO V. 



CXZIV. 

Juan's WA9 good ; nnd might have been still bettert 
But he had got Haid^e into his head : 

However strange, he could not yet forget heft 
Which made him seem exceedingly ill-bred. 

Gulbevaz, who look'd on him as her debtor 
For having had him to her palace led. 

Began to blush up to the eyes, and then 

Grow deadly pale, and then blush back again. 



cxxv. 

At length, in an imperial way, she laid 

Her hand on his, and l)cnding on him eyefl^ 

Which needed not an empire to persuade, 
Look'd into liis fur love, where none replies: 

Her brow grew hiack, but she would not upbraid. 
That being the last thing a proud woman tries; 

She rose, and pausing one chaste moment, threw 

Herself upon his breast, and there she grew. 



CXXVI. 



This was an awkward test, as Juan found, 

But he was steelM by sorrow, wrath, and pride < 

W^ith gentle force her white arms he unwound. 
And seated her all drooping by his side, 

Then rising haughtily he glanced around. 
And looking coldly in her face, he cried, 

"The prison 'd eagle will not pair, nor I 

Serve a sultana's sensual phantasy 



CXXVII. 



•* Thou ask'st, if I can love ? be this the proof 

How much I have loved — that I love not thee f 
In this vile garb, the distaff, web, and woof, 
W^ere fitter for me : Love is for the free ! 
I am not dazzled by this splendid roof; 

U'/jate'er thy power, and gtcoil vl ^eexna \ft V»^ 
Heads f>ow, knees bend, eves vf^ilcXv ^to>\tA ^ ^t^xi^ 
And hands obey — our bearla ate s^iCii o>it oht^ 



oanoT. DON JUAN. 20i 



CXXVIU* 

This was a truth to us extremely trite ; 

Not so to her, who ne'er had heard such things : 
She deem'd her least command must yield delight. 

Earth being only made for queens and kings 
If hearts lay on the left side or the right 

She hardly knew, to such perfection brings 
Legitimacy its born votaries, when 
Aware of their due royal rights o'er men. 



CXXIX. 

Besides, as has been said, she was so fair 
As even in a much humbler lot had made 

A kingdom or confusion any where. 
And also, as may be presumed, she laid 

Some stress on charms, which seldom are, if e'er, 
By their possessors thrown into the shade 

She thought hers gave a double " right divine ;" 

And half of that opinion 's also mine. 



cxxx. 

Remember, or (if you cannot) imagine. 

Ye ! who have kept your chastity when young, 

While some more desperate dowager has been waging 
Love with you, and been in the dog-days stung 

By your refusal, recollect her raging ! 
Or recollect all that was said or sung 

On such a subject ; then suppose the face 

Of a young downright beauty in this case. 



CXXXI. 

Suppose, — but you already have supposed. 
The spouse of Potiphar, the Lady Booby, 

Phaedra, and all which story has disclosed 
Of good examples ; pity that so few by 

Poets and private tutors are exposed. 

To educate — ye youth of Europe — you by \ 

But when you have supposed the few we kiio^» 

Tou can't suppose Gulbeyaz' angry brow. 
roA. FT. — p 



310 DOH /VAX. CMROT. 



GKzxn. 

A tigress robb'd of young, a lioness, - 

Or any interesting beast of prey^ 
Are similes at hand for the distress 

Of ladies who cannot have their own way ; 
But though my turn will not be served with less. 

These don't express one half what I should say s 
For what is stealing young ones, few or many. 
To cutting short their hopes of having any T 



CXXJOII* 

The love of offspring *s nature's general law. 

From tigresses and cubs to ducks and ducklings; 

There 's nothing whets the beak, or arms the claw 
Like an invasion of iheir babes and sucklings* 

And all who have seen a hnnmn nurserv, saw 

IIov.' mothers love their children's squalls and chucklings; 

This strong extreme effect (to tire no longer 

Vour patience) shows the cause must still be stronger. 



3XXXIV. 

If I said fire flasli'd from Gull)evaz' eves, 

'T were nothing — for her eyes fiasii'd always fire; 

Or said her cheeks assumed the deepest dyes, 
I should but bring dis<rrace upon the dyer, 

So su[)ernatunil was her passion's rise; 

For ne'er till now she knew a checkM desire : 
Even ye who know what a check'd woman is 

(Enough, God knows !) would much fall short of thiiL 

cxxxv. 

Her rage was but a minute's, and 't was well— 
A moment's more had slain her ; but the while 

It lasted 't was like a short glimpse of hell : 
Nought 's more sublime than energetic bile, 

Though horrible to see yet grand to tell. 
Like ocean warring 'gainst a rocky isle ; 

And the deep passions fiashlng lVvTovk^\tt,t ^oitia 
M&de her a beautiful embodied aXoxm* 



T, 



DON JUAN. Sli 



cxzxn. 



A vulgnr tempest 't were to a tjphoon 
To match a common fury with her rage. 

And yet she did not want to reach the moon. 
Like moderate Hotspur on the immortal page; 

Her anger pitch'd into a lower tune* 

Perhaps the fault of her soft sex and age — 

Her wish was hut to ** kill, kill, kill," like Lear's, 

And then her thirst of blood was quench'd in tears. 



CXXXTU. 

A storm it raged, and like the storm it pass'd, 

PassM without words — in fact she could not speak 

And then her sex's shame broke in at last, 
A sentiment till then in iier but weak, 

But now it flow'd in nalural (ind tast, 
As water through iin unexpected leak, 

For she felt humbled — and humiliation 

Is sometimes good for people in her station. 

cxxxvni. 

It teaches them that they are flesh and blood, 
It also gently hints to them that others. 

Although of clay, are yet not quite of mud ; 
That urns and pipkins are [)ut fragile brothers, 

And works of the same pottery, bad or good, 

Though not all born of the same sires and mothers : 

It teaches — Heaven knows only what it teaches, 

But sometimes it may mend, and ot\en reaches. 



CXXXIX. 

Her first thought was to cut off Juan's head ; 

Her second, to cut only his — acquaintance; 
Her third, to ask him where he had been bred ; 

Her fourth, to rally him into repentance ; 
Her fit\h, to call her maids and go to bed ; 

Her sixth, to stab herself; her seventh, lo aeivVeniOA 
The lasb to Baba t—'but her grand resoatcQ 
Was ta ait down again, and cry of course. 



SIS Dov jUAir. GAinaT 



CXL* 

She thought to stab herself, but then she had 

Th6 dagger close at hand, which made it awkward 

For Eastern stays are little made to pad. 
So that a poniard pierces if 't is stuck hard : 

She thought of killing Juan — but, poor lad ! 

Though he deserved it well for being so backwarit 

The cutting off his head was not the art 

Most likely to attain her aim — his heart* 



CXLI* 

Juan was moved : he had made up his mind 
To be impaled, or quartcr'd as a dish 

For dogs, or to be slain with pangs refined, 
Or thrown to lions, or niado baits for fish. 

And thus heroically stood resignM, 

Rather than sin — except to his own wish: 

But all his great preparatives for dying 

Dissolved like snow before a woman crying. 



cxui. 

As through his palms Bob Acres' valour oozed. 
So Juan's virtue el>b'd, I know not how ; 

And first he wonder'd whv he had refused : 
And then, if matters could be made up now ; 

And next his sjivage virtue he accused, 
Just as a friar may accuse his vow. 

Or as a dame repents her of her oath, 

\Vhich mostly ends in some small breach of both* 



CXLIII. 

So he began to stammer some excuses ; 

But words are not enougli in such a matter. 
Although you borrowed all that e'er tlie muses 

Have sung, or even a Dandy's dandiest chattel 
Or all li»e figures Castlfreaiih alwixs ; 

Just as a languid smile l>e''an to ll-ittcr 
His peace was making, bul betote \\e NninlvMed 
Further, old Baba rather brisMy eii\et^4. 



rAVrOT. DON JUAN. 213 



CXUT. 

•* Bride of tha Sun ! and Sister of the Moon ! '' 

('T was thus he spake,) ^ and Empress of the Earth 

Whose frown would put the spheres all out of tuue, 
Whose smile makes all the planets dance with mirth. 

Your slave brings tidings — he hopes not too soon — 
Which your sublime attention may be worth : 

The Sun himself has sent me like a ray 

To hint that he is coming up this way/ 



» 



CXLV. 



•* Is it," ezclaim'd Gulbeyaz, " as you say t 

I wish to heaven he would not shine till morning! 

But bid my women form the milky way. 

Hence, my old conict ! give the stars due warning — 

And, Christian ! mingle wiili them as you may, 

And as you 'd hjive irie pardon your past scorning '' 

Here they were interrupted by a humming 

ftound, and then by a cry, "The Sultan's coming! " 

CXLVI. 

First came her damsels, a decorous file. 

And then his Highness' eunuchs, black and white; 

The train might reach a quarter of a mile : 
His majesty was always so polite 

As to announce his visits a long while 
Before he came, especially at night; 

For being the last w il'e of the Einperour, 

She was of course the favourite of the four. 

CXIiVII. 

His Highness was a man of solemn port, 

Shawl'd to the nose, and bearded to the eyes, 

Snatch'd from a prison to preside at court, 
His lately bowstrung brother caused his rise ; 

He was as good a sovereign of the sort 
As any montion'd in tlie histories 

Of Cantemir, or Knolles, where f«;vv #;hine 

Save Solyman, the glory of their line.* 

* Ji may not bo vnnorthy of remark, that Bacon, \n Yv\» ««Ra^ ^ti^'' ^.xw^^^ 
Bt UiMt Solyman was iho hist of hia Uuo , oa wWl «L\>SiiOta^'<» \>uno^ x«^» 



^14 DON JCTAir. CAWNIT. 



CXLTia. 

He went to mosque in state, and said his prayers 
With more than " Oriental scrupulosity ; " 

He led to his vizier all state affairs. 
And show'd but little royal curiosity : 

I know not if he had domestic cares — 
No process proved connubial animosity ; 

Four wives and twice five hundred maids, unseeiiy 

Were ruled as calmly as a Christian queen. 



^^^ « 

Them ^re his wordi : — ^ The destruction of Mnstapha was so latal to Solymui*! 
line, as the succession of the Turks from Solyman, until this day, is siin>ected 
to be untrue, and of stransne blood : for that Selvmun the Second was thought 
to be Kupposititionn." But Bacon, in hin historical authorities, is often inaccormia. 
I could s;ive half a di>zen instances from his Apophthegms only. 

Being in the humour of criticism, I fihall proceed, afier havine ventured nppn 
^ the i^lips t>f Racon, to tunrh (»n Dne or two as irininu in the cilition of the British 
Poets by th«' justly oHobr.iTeil Camphj'!!. — Hm \ do tliis i»i -roiHi will, and trust 
it will be so takfti — If any ihitij couUl aJJ to my opitiioii of the talents und true 
feelinj i»!' tliai L^oMilrman. it wtniM bo hi> classical, lioi!«'>t, aii«l triumphant de- 
fence of Popo. ai:.iinst tlie vul-jar cant ofihe day, and itsi evi-^linii (irub-slrcet. 

The inadvertencies li> which I allude, are, — 

Fir>tly, in spcakiiii: of An.*/* y, wlhun he nccii>esof havinjr taken " his leading 
characters fn)m N'wr.V/'/." An>:cy's Harh Jiuide was publi^hed in 17ot». Smol- 
lett's Humphry Clinker ;ihe only work of Smollctts i"n>m whi<-h Tabitha, A:o. 
&.C. could have been taken' was written during N//i >lh't's hi»t nsllrncr at I-.eif- 
horn, in 1770. — ** Ariff//," if there ha^ been any borrowintr, Anstey must be the 
creditor, and not the debtor. I refer Mr. (-arapbell to \\U own data in his lives of 
Smolh ft and An <■'* ti . 

Secondly, Mr. Campbell say-, in the life of Cowpcr. 'note to page 33S, vol. 7,) 
that *' he knows not to whom Cowper allndos in the-e Hues : 

" Nor he who. for the bane of «!iou>^an«ls born. 

Built (i<»/ a <fiur<fi, and hnuh'tl hi.-^ name to >com." 

The CaK-ini^t meant Voltaire, and the church of Ferney, with its inscription, 
** Deo erexil Voltaire."' 
Thirdly, in the hie of Burns, Mr. C. quotes Shak>pearc thus, — 

•* To trdd refined sold, to paint ^V ro</». 
Or tvlljnsh perfume tu the violet." 

This version by no means improves the ori^nal, which is as follows : 

** To gild refined cold, to paint the /i7v. 
To throw a jferftimf on the violet, «i:o.'* 

Kinsr John. 

§ 

A creat po*»\ quoiirij another, bhould be correct ; ho .-honjd al?o be accurate 

when he acru*e» a l*arna'«sian brother of that da->,j''n>n'- rharue " bomjwing:" 

a p«)et had belicr borrow any thine ..oxi-cptinii money tb in the tli()U'jh'.s of an- 

jtlier — ihi-y are always sure to be rcclamu'd ; bnt ii is very hard, havine been 

the Undfry to be denounced as the duijior, a.-* iaihe ca>e of ,\nAley ve^^us Smol 

etl. 

As there i> " h'»n »ur omonij thieves." let there be *ome nmouir y»i">er^, and 

give each his due, — none can aifonl to c:ive it more tlian Mr. Campbell himself, 

v-'bo, with n liish reputation for oriiiincvWvy. ^'.v\ a ^vwwc \nN\\v\\ c;vtwvQV Ueslmken, 

J» the only poet of the time*! (exco\»l Uocers': wYv^ ctwxVve t<iv^^Mi\vi\V3sxvWn.'" 

» ia indeed a reproach; with having whvveu tooUttk. 



nutrof. DON JUAN. 2U 



CXLIX. 

If now and then there happen'd a slight slip, 
Little was heard of criminal or crime ; 

The story scarcely passM a single lip — 
The sack and sea had settled all in time, 

From which the secret nobody could rip : 

The Public knew no more than does this rhyme ; 

No scandals made the daily press a curse — 

Morals were better, and the fish no worse. 



CL. 

He saw with his own eyes ihe moon was round. 
Was also certain that the earth was square, 

Because he had journey'd fifty miles, and found 
No sign that it was circular any where ; 

His empire also was without a bound : 
T is true, a little troubled here and there, 

By rebel pachas, and encroaching giaours. 

But then they never came to " the Seven Towers , *' 



CLI. 

Except in shape of envoys, who were sent 

To lodge there when a war broke out, according 

To the true law of nations, which ne'er meant 
Tiiose scoundrels, who have never bad a sword in 

Their dirty diplonuitic hands, to vent 

Their spleen in making strife, and safely wording 

Their lies, yclep'd despatches, without risk or 

The singeing of a single inky whisker. 



CLII. 

He had fifty daughters and four doxen sons, 
Of whom all such as came of age were stow'd, 

The former in a palace, where like nuns 

They lived till some Bashaw was sent abroad, 

When she, whose turn it was, was wed at once. 

Sometimes at six years old — though lV\\a aeevna Q&i\^ 

Tis true ; the reason is, that the Baahaw 
MuBt make a present to his sire in law. 



SIO DON JUAN. OMRȴ. 



CLUlm 

His sons were kept in prison, till they grew 
or years to fill a bowstring or the throne. 

One or the other, but which of the two 
Could yet be known unto the fates alone ; 

Meantime the education they went through 

Was princely, as the proofs have always shown s 

So that the heir apparent still was found 

No less deserving to be hang'd than crown'd* 



CUT. 

His Majesty saluted his fourth spouse 

With all the ceremonies of his rank, 
Who clear'd her sparkling eyes and smooth'd her brows. 

As suits a matron who has playM a prank ; 
These must seem (Joul)lv mindrul of their v«)ms, 

To save the credit of their breaking l»ank : 
To no men are such cordial greetings given 
As those whose wives have made them fit for heaven. 



CLV. 

His Highness cast around his great black eyes. 
And looking, as he always look'd, perceived 

Juan amongst the damsels in disguise, 

At which he seem'd no whit surprised nor grieved. 

But just remark'd with air sedate and wise, 
While still a fluttering sigh Gulheyaz heaved, 

" I see you Ve bought another girl ; 't is pity 

That a mere Christian should be half so pretty." 



CLVI. 

This compliment, which drew all eyes upon 

The new-bought virgin, made her blush and shake* 
Her comrades, also, thought themselves undone: 
Oh ! Mahomet ! that his Majesty should take 
Such notice of a giaour, while scarce to one 

Of them his lips imperial ever spake ! 
There was a general whisper, toss, -Av^^^tv^^^ 
But etiquette forbade them a]i\ to ^v^^e. 



Dov jvjkx. 317 



CLvn. 



The Turks do well to shut — at least, sometimes — 
The women up — because, in sad reality, 

Their chastity in these unhappy climes 
Is not a thing of that astringent quality 

Which in the North prevents precocious crimes, 
And makes our snow less pure than our morality ; 

The sun, which yearly melts the polar ice. 

Has quite the contrary effect on vice. 



CLTIH* 

Thus far our chronicle ; and now we pause 
Though not for want of matter ; but 't is time, 

According to the ancient epic laws, 

To slacken sail, and anchor with our rhyme. 

Let this fifth canto meet with due applause, 
The sixth shall have a touch of the sublime ; 

Meanwhile, as Homer sometimes sleeps, perhaps 

You 11 pardon to my muse a few short naps. 



- > 



PREFACE 

TO CANTOS VL VIL VIIL 



Thb details of the siege of Ismail in two of the foUowing 
cantos (f. e. the 7th and 8th) are taken from a French work, 
entitled '< Histoire de la Nouvelle Russia." Some of the inci- 
dents attributed to Don Juan really occurred, particularly the 
circumstance of his saving the infant, which was the actual 
case of the late Due de Richelieu, then a vouncr volunteer in 
the Russian service, and afterward the founder and benefactor 
of Odessa, where his name and memory can never cease to be 
regarded with reverence. In the course of these cantos, a 
stanza or two will be found relative to the late Marquis of Lon- 
donderry, but written some time before his decease. Had that 
person's oligarchy died with him, they would have been sup- 
pressed ; as it is, I am aware of nothing in the manner of his 
death or of his life to prevent the free expression of the opi- 
nions of all whom his wliole existence was consumed in endea- 
vouring to enslave. That he was an amiable man in private 
life, may or may not be true : but with this the public have 
nothing to do; and as to lamenting his death, it will be time 
enough when Ireland has ceased to mourn for his birth. As a 
minister, I, for one of millions, looked upon him as the most 
despotic in intention, and the weakest in intellect, that ever 
tyrannized over a country. It is the first time indeed since 
the Normans that England has been insulted by a minister (at 
least) who could not speak English, and that Parliament per- 
mitted itself to be dictated to in the language of iMrs. Mala- 
prop. 

Of the wanner of his death little need bo aaiA, cx<i^\kV. >\\a.\.\l 
Mpoor radical, such as Waddington or Watsoxi, Vv^^ ^>aX. \Mk» 



220 psbfacbI 

throat, he would hare been buried in a croflB-road, with the omial 
appurtenances of the stake and mallet. But the minister was an 
elegant lunatic — a sentimental suicide — he merely cut the 
"'carotid artery," (blessings on their learning!) — and lo! the 
pageant, and the Abbey ! and " the syllables of dolour yelled 
forth " by the newspapers — and the harangue of the Coroner 
in a eulogy over the bleeding body of the deceased — (an An- 
thony worthy of such a Caesar) — and the nauseous and atro- 
cious cant of a degraded crew of conspirators against all that 
is sinoere and honourable. In his death he was necessarily one 
of two things by the law — a felon or a madman — and in 
either case no great subject for panegyric* In his life he 
was — what all the world knows^ and half of it will feel for 
years to come, unless his death prove a " moral lesson " to the 
surviving Sejani f of Europe. It may at least serve as some 
consolation to the nations, that their opprrssors are not happy, 
and in some instances jiid«:e so justly of their own actions as 
to anticipate the sentence of mankind. — Let us h«^ar no more 
of this man ; and let Ireland remove the ashes of her Grattan 
from the sanctuary of Westminster. Shall the patriot of hu- 
manity repose by the Wcrther of politics ! ! ! 

With regard to the olijections which have been made on an- 
other score to the already published cantos of this poem, I 
shall content myself with two quotations from Voltaire: — 

** La pudcur s'cst enfuite des cii'urs, et s'est rcfujiiec sur es 
levrcs." 

" Plus les mcEurs sont de[)rav('j!, pi -is les expressions devi- 
cnnent inesurccs ; on croit regagner en langagc ce qu'on a per- 
du en vertu." 

This is the real fact, as applicable to the degraded and by- 
pocritical mass which leavens the present English generation^ 
and is the only answer they deserve. The hackneyed and lav 
ishcd title ot' Blas;)hemer — which, with Radical, Liberal, Jaco- 
bin, Reformer, A: c. are the changes wliich the hirelings are daily 

• I lay by ihc //iirof the hnd — the law- of humanity jmljo more gently ; 
bnl aft the !o]^iiinaie.'< have always the taw in their inutitii!<. let them here moke 
ibc jnoit of it. 
f From this number must be exccpte«i Canning. CanniuR is a goniup, almost 
M nnir»na1 one. an urulur, a wit, a pi^et, a s\aU'fcU\:viv ; ;vu'\ \\v>\ol\wvv>C valent cao 
'w^panue the path of iiLs late v^eiiecMsoT, liOtAC. VI «\« \a^»si w^«^\m 
coamry, Caniiing can ; but will h© I 1, lot ono,Yiove ws. 



^^91 



PSEFACE. 22l 

ringing in the ears of those who will listen -— should be weU 
come to all who recollect on whom it was originally bestowed. 
Socrates and Jesus Christ were put to dcatli publicly as 6/a«- 
phemerSf and so have been and may be many wlio dare to op- 
pose the most notorious abuses of the name of God and the 
mind of man. But persecution is not refutation ^ nor even tri 
lunph : the ** wretched infidel," as he is callc<l, is probably hap- 
pier in his prison than tlie proudesit of his assailants. With his 
opinions I have nothin<r to do — they maybe right or wrong — 
but he has suffered for them, and that very sulForing for con- 
science' sake will make more proselytes to deism than the ex- 
ample of heterodox * prelates to Ciiristianity, suicide statesmen 
to oppression, or over-pensioned homicides to the impious alli- 
ance which insults the world w^ith the name of " IIolv ! " 1 

m 

have no wish to trample on tlio dislionourcd or the dead ; but 
it w^ould be wi'U if the adherents to the rlassos from whence 
those persons sj)nin^ .shmiM almte ii little of the rant wliieh is 
the cryin'r sin of this douhUsdt^aling and falsr. speaking time of 
selfish spoilors, and but enough tor the present. 

* When T/)rd Sandwirh said " h« did not know \ho diflfrrrnro hpiwoon or- 
thodoxy and heterodoxy," — Wnrlmrton, iho bLshop. n'plicd, " Orfhoiloxy, rny 
loni, it #«'/ dojtf, and hfiorodoxy is nnoitur nuin's doxy." \ prolMto of tin"' pn*- 
i*nl dry has dii-rovcroil, it Hocms, a f/iinl kirnl of d«i\y, which h:i<» not t'rr:«lly 
eiahcd m the eycM of the elect thut uhii.h lienihani vlxWs '* Chnrch-of-LIufflund- 



^■•v-ii^ 



DON JU A.N. 



CANTO THK- SIXTH. 



I. 

•* There is a tide in the affairs of men 

Which, taken at the flood," — you know the rest, 
And most of us have found it now and then ; 

At least we think so, though hut few have guess'd 
The moment, till too late to come again. 

But no doubt every thing is for the best-^ 
Of which the surest sign is in the end : 
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend. 



n. 

There is a tide in the affairs of women 

Which, taken at the flood, leads — God knows where 
Tliose navigators must he able seamen 

Whose charts lay down its current to a hair; 
Not all the reveries of Jacob Hehmcn 

With its strange wliirls and eddies can compare : 
Men, with their heads reflect on this and that — 
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what! 



III. 

And yet a headlong, headstrong, downright she, 
Young, beautiful, and daring — who would risk 

A throne, the world, the universe, to be 
Beloved in her own way, and rather whisk 

Tho stars from out the sky, than not be free 
As are the billows when the breeze is W\sVl— 

Though such a she 'a a devil (if that tYvete \» oxui^ 

Tet she would make fuU many a Mamc\\e^ii« 



824 DOIT JUAN. CAXTO¥ 



rhrones, worlds, et cetera^ are so oft upset 
By commonest ambition, that when passion 

O'erthrows the same, we readily forget, 

Or at the least forgive, the loving rash one. 

If Anthony be well remember'd yet, 

T is not his conquests keep his name in fashioBp 

But Actiuro, lost for Cleopatra's eyes, 

Outbalances all Caesar's victories. 



V. 

He died at fifty for a queen of forty ; 

I wish their years had been fifteen and twenty, 
For then wealth, kingdoms, worlds arc but a sport — I 

Remember wlicn, thoujjh I had no great plenty 
Of worlds to lose, yet still, to pay my court, I 

Gave what I had — a heart : as the world went, I 
Gave what was worth a world ; for worlds could never 
Restore me those pure feelings, gone for ever. 



VI. 

T was the boy's " mite," and, like the " widow'^" may 
Perhaps be weigh'd hereafter, if not now ; 

But whether such things do or do not weijrh, 
All who have loved, or love, will still allow 

liife has nought like it. God is love, they say, 
And Love 's a God, or was before the brow 

Of earth was wrinkled by the sins and tears 

Of— but Chronology best knows the years. 



vu. 

We left our hero and third heroine in 

A kind of state more awkward than uncommoii» 
For gentlemen must sometimes risk their skin 
For that sad tempter, a forbidden woman : 
Sultans too much abhor this sort of sin. 
And don't agree at all with the wise Romui^ ..«, 
Heroicy stoic Cato, the 8enlen\\ov]ka, 
Who lent his lady to his firvend B^otti^uauQA. 



«JUmiVL IKm JUAK. 



VIBL 



I know Gulbeyaz was extremely wrong ; 

I own it, I deplore it, I condemn it ; 
But I detest all fiction even in song, 

And so must tell the truth, howe'er you blame it. 
Her reason being weak, her passions strong, 

She thought that her lord's heart (even could she claim it) 
Was scarce enough ; for he had fifty-nine 
Tearsy and a fifteen-hundredth concubine. 



IX. 

I am not, like Cassio, ** an arithmetician,'* 
But by ** the bookish theoric " it appears, 

If 't is summ'd up with feminine precision. 

That, addincr to the account his Highness' years, 

The fair Sultana orr'd from inanition ; 
For, were the Sultan just to all his dears. 

She could but claim the fifteen-hundredth parf 

Of what should be monopoly — the heart. 



X. 

It is observed that ladies are litigious 

Upon all legal objects of possession, 
And not the least so when they are religious. 

Which doubles what they tiiink of the transgression 
With suits and prosecutions they besiege us. 

As the tribunals show through many a session. 
When they sus|>ect that any one goes shares 
In that to which the law ma£es them sole heirs. 



XI. 

Now, if this holds good in a Christian land, 
The heathen also, though with lesser latitude. 

Are apt to carry things with a high hand, 

And take, what kings call ** an imposing attitude ; ** 

And for their rights connubial make a stand, 

When their liege husbands treat tUcui wvlVi '\Ti^i^\\Va^\ 

And as four wives must have quadruple clavvnift) 
73&e Tigris hath its jealousies like TViamca. 



DOH JUAK. Qunmvfc 



zn. 



Gulbeyaz was the fourth, and (as I said) 

The favourite ; but what 's faTOur amongst fourt 
Polygamy may well be held in dread, 

Not only as a sin, but as a bore : 
Most wise men with one moderate woman wed, • 
. Will scarcely find philosophy for more ; 
And all (except Mahometans) forbear 
To make the nuptial couch a ** Bed of Ware.** 



His Highness, the sublimest of mankind, — 

So styled according to the usual forms 
Of every monarch, till they are consign'd 

To those sad hungry jacobins the worms. 
Who on the very lotttcst kings have dined, — 

His Highness gazed upon Gullxjyaz' charms. 
Expecting all the welcome of a lover 
(A " Highland welcome " all the wide world over)» 



xrv. 



Now here we should distinguish ; for howe'er 
Kisses, sweet words, embraces, and all that. 

May look like what is — neither here nor there. 
They are put on as easily as a hat, 

Or rather bonnet, which the fair sex wear, 
Trinim'd either heads or hearts to decorate, 

Which form an ornament, but no more part 

Of heads, than their caresses of the heart. 



XV. 

A slight blush, a sofl tremor, a calm kind 
Of gentle feminine delight, and shown 
More in the evelids than the eves, resifjn'd 

Rather to hide what pleases most unknown, 
Are the best tokens (to a modest mind) 
Of love, when seated on his loveliest throne, 
A sincere woman's breast, — ^ot ovcit-'uxiTm 
Or over^coidf annihilates the cUanu. 



^ 



cunon. i>oN JVAtiV 



XVI. 



For over- warmth, if false* is worse than truth 
If true, 't is no great lease of its own fire ; 

For no one, save in very early youth, 
Would like (1 think) to trust all to desire, 

Which is but a precarious bond, in sooth. 
And apt to be transferr'd to the first buyer 

At a sad discount : while your over chilly 

Women, on t' other hand, seem somewhat mOjm 



zvn. 

That is, we cannot pardon their bad taste. 
For so it seems to lovers swift or slow, 

Who fain would have a mutual flame confess'd. 
And see a sentimental passion glow, 

Even were St. Francis' paramour their guest. 
In his monastic concubine of snow ; — 

In short, the maxim for the amorous tribe is 

Horatian, ^ Medio tu tutissimu^ ibis." 



xvin. 

The «* tu " 's too much, — but let it stand, — the veise 
Requires it, that 's to say, the English rhyme. 

And not the pink of old hexameters ; 

But, af\er all, there 's neither tunc nor time 

In the last line, which cannot well l)e worse, 
And was thrust in to close the octave's chime : 

I own no prosody can ever rate it 

As a rule, but tnUh may, if you translate it. 



XIX. 



If fair Gulbeyaz overdid her part, 

I know not — it succeeded, and success 

Is much in most things, not less in the heart 
Than other articles of female dress. 

Self-love in man, too, beats all female art ; 
They lie, we lie, all lie, but love no \eat i 

And no one virtue yot, except starvation, 

CouJd atop that worai of vices — propagalVoiii 



388 Don JUAir. 



We leave this royal conple to repose : 

A bed is not a throne, and they may sleeps 

Whatc'er their dreams be, if of joys or woes: 
Yet disappointed joys are woes as deep 

As any man's clay mixture undergoes. 

Our least of sorrows are such as we weep; 

T is the vile daily drop on drop which wears 

The soul out (like the stone) with petty 



XXI. 

A scolding wife, a sullen son, a bill 

To pay, unpaid, protested, or discounted 

At a per-centnge ; a child cross, dog ill, 

A favourile horse fallen lame just as he 's mounted, 

A bad old woman making a uorse will, 

Wiiich leaves vou minus of the cash vou counted 

As certain ; — these are paltry things, and yet 

I Ve rarely seen the man they did not fret. 



xxn. 



I 'm a philosopher ; confound them all ! 

Bills, beasts, and men, and — no! not womankind ! 
With one good hearty curse I vent my gall. 

And then my stoicism leaves nought behind 
Which it can either pain or evil call. 

And I can give my whole soul up to mind ; 
Though what is soul or mind, their birth or growth* 
Is more than I know — the deuce take them both ! 



XXIII. 

So now all things are d — nM one feels at ease. 

As after reading Athanasius* curse. 
Which doth your true believer so much please : 

I doubt if anv now could make it worse 
O'er his worst enemy when at his knees, 
T is so sententious, posxUve, and terse. 
And decorates the book of Commoiv'^wjw 
As doth a rainbow the ^u&l cleaim^^vt. 



i«v»n. Doif JOAir. S^l» 



Golbeyaz and her lord were deeping, or 

At least one of them ! — Oh, the heavy night. 

When wicked wives, who love some bachelor* 
Lie down in dudgeon to sigh for the light 

Of the gray morning, and look vainly for 
Its twinkle through the lattice dusky quite — 

To toss, to tumble, doze, revive, and quake, 

Lest their too lawful bed-fellow should wake. 



These are beneath the canopy of heaven. 

Also beneath the canopy of beds 
Four-posted and silk-ciirtain'd, which are givon 

For rich men and their brides to lay their heads 
Upon, in slieets white as what bards call " driven 

Snow." Well ! 't is all hap-hazard when one weds. 
Gull)eyaz was an empress, but had been 
Perhaps as wretched if a peasants quean. 



Don Juan in his feminine disrruise, 

With all the damsels in their long array, 

Had bow'd themselves l)of«)re th' imperial eyes. 
And at the usual sijjnal ta'en their wav 

Back to their chaml)ers, those long frallerics 
In the seraglio, where the ladi(?3 lay 

Their delicate limbs ; a thousand l)osoms there 

Beating for love, as the caged bird's for air. 



XXVII. 

I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse 
The tyrant's wish, " that mankind only had 

One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce : 
My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad, 

And much more tender on the whole than fierce ; 
It being (not now, but only while a \oA) 

That womankind had but one rosy inoulh. 
To ki'ifs them all at once from North to SovitVk. 



230 DON JVAK. OAHO «L 



Oh, enviable Briareus ! with tl^y hands 

And heads, if thoa hadst all things multiplied 

In such proportion ! — But my Muse withstands 
The giant thought of being a Titan's biide^ 

Or travelling in Patagonian lands ; 
So let us back to Lilliput, and guide 

Our hero through the labyrinth of love 

In which we left him several lines above* 



He went forth with the lovely Odalisques, 
At the given signal join'd to their array ; 

And though he certainly ran many risks. 
Yet he could not at times keep, by the way, 

(Although the consequences of such frisks 
Are worse than the worst damages men pay 

In moral England, where the tiling 's a tax,) 

From ogling all their charms from breasts to backs. 



XXX. 



Still he forgot not his disguise : — along 

Tiie galleries from room to room they walk'd, 

A virgin-like and edifying throng, 

By eunuchs llank'd; while at their head there stalk*d 

A dame who kept up discipline among 

The female ranks, so that none stirr'd or talk'd 

Without her sanction on their she-parades : 

Her title was " the Mother of the Maids.** 



XXXI. 



Wliether she was a " mother," I know not. 

Or whether they were "maids " who callM her mother; 
But this is her seraglio title, got 

I know not how, but good as any other ; 
So Cantcmir can tell you, or De Tott : 
Her office was, to keep aloof or smother 
All bad propensities in fiVteen Vvutv^t^ 
Young' women, and correct lYicm vrWw \)cv«^ WxnA^^ 



CANTO ▼!. DON JUAir. 381 



A goodly sinecure, no doubt ! but made 
More easy by the absence of all men — 

Except his majesty, who, with her aid, 

And guards, and bolts, and walls, and now and then 

A slight example, just to cast a shade 

Along the rest, contrived to keep this den 

Of beauties cool as an Italian convent. 

Where all the passions have, alas ! but one vent* 



xxxin. 

And what is that ? Devotion, doubtless — how 
Could you ask such a question ? — but we will 

Continue. As I said, this goodly row 
Of ladies of all countries at the will 

Of one good man, with st?itely march and slow, 
Like water-lilies floating down a rill — 

Or rather lake — for rills do not run slowly, — 

Paced on most maiden-like and melancholy. 



xxxrv. 

But when they reach'd their own apartments, there, 
Like birds, or hoys, or bedlamites broke loose. 

Waves at spring. tide, or woincjn any where 

When freed Irom bonds, (which are of no great use 

After all), or like Irisii at a fair, 

Their guards l>eing gone, and as it were a truce 

Establish'd between them and bondage, they 

Began to sing, dance, chatter, smile, and play. 



XXXV. 

Their talk, of course, ran most on the new comer ; 

Her shape, her hair, her air, her every thing : 
Some thought her dress did not so much become her, 

Oi wondcr'd at her ears without a ring ; 
Some said her years were getting nigh their summer, 

Others contended they were but in spring*, 
Borne thought her rather masculine in VieVgJtvt, 
While others wished that she had been so c^\le% 



DOH JVAK. tiMm 



But no one doubted on the whole* that she 
Was what her dress bespoke, a damsel fairt 

And fresh, and '* beautiful exceedingly," 

Who with the brightest Georgians might compaie 

They wonder'd how Gulbeyaz, too, could be 
So silly as to buy slaves who might share 

(If that his Highness wearied of his bride) 

Her throne and power, and every thing beside. 



But what was stiungest in this virgin creWf 
Although her beauty was enough to vex, 

Af^er the first investigating view. 

They all found out as few, or fewer, specks 

In the fair form of their companion new, 
That is the custom of the gentle sex, 

When tliey survey, with Christian eyes or Heathen, 

In a new face " the ugliest creature breathing." 



XXXVIII. 

And yet they had their little jealousies, 
Like all tlie rest ; but upon this occasion. 

Whether there are such things as sympathies 
Without our knowledge or our approbation. 

Although they coulii not see through his disguise. 
All felt a soft kind of concatenation, 

Like magnetism, or devilism, or what 

You please — we will not quarrel about that : 



XXXIX. 

But certain 't is they all felt for their new 
Companion something newer still, as 't were 

A sentimental friendship through and through. 
Extremely pure, which made them all concur 

In wishing her their sister, save a few 

Who wish*d they had a brother just like her. 

Whom, if they were at home m aweet Clrcassia, 
They would prefer to Fadisha or PaciW. 



iK>ir JUAN. 3S8 



Of those who had most genius for this sort 
Of sentimental friendship, there were three, 

Lolah, Katinka, and Dudii ; in short, 
(To save description) fair as fair can be 

Were they, according to the best report, 
Though differing in stature and degree. 

And clime and time, and country and complexion ; 

They all alike admired their new connexion. 



XLI. 

Lolah was dusk as India and as warm ; 

Katinka was a Georgian, white and red, 
With great blue eyes, a lovely hand and ^rm. 

And feet so small they scarce seem'd made to tread, 
But rather skim the earth ; while DudiVs form 

Look'd more adapted to he put to bed, 
Being somewhat largo, and languishing, and lazy, 
Yet of a beauty that would drive you crazy. 



XLI I. 

A kind of sleepy Venus seemM Dudi]i, 
Yet very fit to " murder sleep " in those 

Who gazed upon her cheek's transcendent hue. 
Her Attic forehead, and her Phidian nose : 

Few angles were there in her form, 'i is true, 

Thinner she niifrht have been, and yet scarce lose , 

Yet, after all, 't would puzzle to say where 

It would not spoil some separate charm to parem 



XLIII. 

She was not violently lively, but 

Stole on your spirit like a May -day breaking ; 
Her eyes were not too sparkling, yet, half-shut. 

They put beholders in a tender taking; 
She look*d (this simile 's quite new) just cut 

From marble, like Pygmalion's statue wakm^^ 
The mortal and the marble still at stnfe, 
And timidly expanding into life. 



3M DON JVAXU OiHffOVIk 



Lolah demanded the new damsel's name — 
<« Juanna." — Well, a pretty name enough* 

Katinka ask'd her also whence she came—- 

"From Spain."— "But where m Spain!**— « Do n'l 
ask such stuff. 

Nor show your Creorgian ignorance — for shame ! * 
Said Lolah, with an accent rather roughs 

To poor Katinka : " Spain 's an island near 

Morocco, betwixt Egypt and Tangier.'' 



ZLY. 

Dudii said nothing, but sat down beside 
Juanna, playing with her veil or hair ; • 

And looking at her steadfastly, she sigh'd, 
As if she pitied her for being tliere, 

"A pretty stranger, without friend or guide, 
And all abash'd, too, at the general stare 

Which welcomes hapless strangers in all places, 

W^ith kind reumrks upon their luien and faces. 



XLVI. 

But here the Mother of the INIriids drew near, 
With, *' Ladit'S it is time to ijo to rest. 

I 'ni puzzled what to do with you, my <lear," 
Sl»e aiided to Juaima, their n -x guest : 

"Your coming has I.Hin uiil\|»l'i.u"(1 hore, 
And every couch is occujiicd ; you had best 

Partake of mine ; but by to-morrow early 

We will have all tilings settled ibr you fairly." 



XLVII. 

Here Lolah interposed — " Mamma, you know 
You do n't slrep soundly, and 1 cannot bear 
That anv bodv . .luuM ili^iur!) vou so: 

• • • 

I *11 take Juanna; we Ve a slen.Ieror pair 
Than you would make the half of ; — do n't say no; 

And I of your young charge will take due care.** 
But here Katinka interfered, atid skv^ 
** She also had compassion and ^ V)ed«^^ 



WRQTL 



DOlf JUAXf. 2M 



ZLTOX. 



** Besides, I hate to sleep alone,'' quoth she, 

The matron frown'd : •* Why so ? " — " For fear of ghosts^ 

Replied Katinka ; ^ I am sure I see 

A phantom upon each of the four posts ; 

And then I have the worst dreams that can be. 

Of Guebres, Giaours, and Ginns, and Gouls in hosts,'' 

The dame replied, ** Between your dreams and you, 

I fear Juanna's dreams would be but few. 



ZLIX. 

^ Tou, Lolah, must continue still to lie 

Alone, for reasons which do n't matter ; you 

The same, Katinka, until by and by ; 
And I shall place Juanna with Dudu, 

Who 's quiet, inofTensive, silent, shy, 

And will not toss and chatter the night through. 

What say you, child ? " — Dudu said nothing, as 

Her talents were of the more silent class ; 



L. 

But she rose up, and kiss'd the matron's brow 
Between the eves, and Lolah on both cheeks, 

Katinka too ; and with a gentle l)ow 

(Curt'sies are neither iis(;d by Turks nor Greeks) 

She took Juanna by the hanil to show 

Their place of rest, and let't to both their piques, 

The others pouting at the matron's preference 

Of Dudu, though they held their tongues from deference. 



LI. 

It was a spacious chamber (Oda is 

The Turkish title), and ranged round the wall 
Were couches, toilets — and much more than this 

I might describe, as I have seen it all, 
But it suffices — little was amiss ; 

'T was on the whole a nobly furnish'd halU 
With aJJ thing3 ladies uraQt, save one or Invo, 
AdU even those were nearer than they knew* 



DON JVAII. CMHOfI 



US. 



Dudii, as has been said, was a sweet creatorey 
Not very dashing, but extremely winning. 

With the most regulated charms of feature, 

Which painters cannot catch like faces sinning 

Against proportion — the wild strokes of nature 
Which tliey hit off at once in the beginning. 

Full of expression, right or wrong, that strike, 

And pleasing, or unpleasing, still are like. 



Lni. 

But she was a soft landscape of mild earth, 
Where all was harmony, and calm, and quiet, 

Luxuriant, budding ; cheerful without mirth. 
Which, if not happiness, is much more nigh it 

Than are your nii*:hty passions and so furtli, 

Which some call ** the suhhinc : " I wish ihey 'd try it; 

I 've seen vour storinv seas and storinv women. 

And pity lovers rather more than seamen. 



LIV. 

But she was pensive more than melancholy. 
And serious more than pensive, and serene, 

It may be, more than either — not unholy 

Her thou«:hts, at least till now, appear to have been^ 

The strangest thing was, h«^autpoiis, she was wholly 
Unconscious, allxit turn'd of cjuick seventeen, 

Tliat she was fair, or dark, or short, or tall ; 

She never thought about herself at all. 



LV. 

And therefore was she kind and gentle as 

The Age of Gold (when gold was yet unknown. 

By which its nomenclature came to psiss ; 
Thus most appropriately has lieen shown 

** Lucus a non lucendo," m>t what iras. 

But what tras not ; a sort of style that 's grown 

-Extremely common in this age, whoa^ vc\«ta.l 
The devil may decompose, but nevex «fc\.i\^\ 



cunon. i>ON JVAir. 387 



LVI. 

I think it may be of ** Corinthian Brass,^ 
Which was a mixture of all metals, but 

The brazen uppermost.) Kind reader ! pass 
This long parenthesis : I could not shut 

It sooner for the soul of me, and class 

My faults even with your own ! which meaneth* Put 

A kind construction upon them and me : 

But that you won't — then do n't — I am not less firee. 



Lvn. 

T is time we should return to plain narration. 
And thus my narrative proceeds : — Dudii, 

With every kindness short of ostentation, 

Show'd Junn, or Juanna, through and through 

This iahyrinth of rcmalos, and each station 

Descrihcd — what 's strange — in words extremely few 

I have but one sin»ile, and that 's a blunder, 

For wordless woman, which is silent thunder. 



LVIII. 

And next she gave her (I say her, because 
The gender still was epicene, at least 

In outward show, which is a saving clause) 
An outline of the customs of the East, 

With all their chaste integrity of laws, 
By which the more a haram is increased, 

Tlie stricter doubtless grow the vestal duties 

Of any supernumerary beauties. 



LIX. 



And then she gave Juanna a chaste kiss : 
Dudu was fond of kissing — which I 'm sure 

That noi)ody can ever take amiss. 

Because 't is pleasant, so that it be pure, 

And between females means no more than this — 
That they have nothing better near, or uc>N^it% 

^K'lss " rhymes to "bJiss " in fact as wcW sla N 
/ wish it never led to something worse. 



<? 



3S DOM JVAH. 



LZ. 



In perfect innocence she then unmade 
Her toilet, which cost little, for she was 

A child of Nature, carelessly array'd : 
If fond of a chance ogle at her glass, 

'T was like the fawn, which, in the lake displayed. 
Beholds her own shy, shadowy image pass, 

When first she starts, and then returns to peep 

Admiring this new native of the deep. 



LXI. 

And one by one her articles of dress 

Were laid aside ; but not before she ofier'd 

Her aid to fair Juanna, wliose excej?s 

Of inodvsty drolinotl tin? assistanco profferM : 

Which |>:i'is'd w«'ll olF — as she rcmld do no less; 
Though hv this pulitcsso slir rather sutfer'd, 

Pricking h(»r lingors with ihoso cursed pins, 

Which surclv were invented fur our sins,— 



LXII. 

Making a woman Hke a porcupine, 

Not to l)c rashly touch'd. But still more dread. 
Oh ye ! whose fate it is, as once 't was mine, 

In earlv voutii, to turn a Indv's maid: — 
I did my x/ry boyish l>ost to shine 

In tricking her out for a masquerade: 
Tlic pins were phiced sutliciently, but not 
Stuck all exactly in tlie proper spot. 



LXIIT. 

But these arc foolish things to all the wise, 

And I love wisdom more than slie loves me; 
My tendency is to philosophise 

On most tilings, from a tyrant to a tree ; 
But still the spouseless virgin Knotrledi^e flies. 

What are we ? and whence came we ? what shall be 
Our ultimate existence 1 w\\al 's omt ^xcafcTvlA 
Are questions answcrless, and >feX. *\iiceasa»X* 



UWn fL BON JVAK* 



LXIV. 



There was deep silence in the chamber : dim 
And distant from each other burpM the lights. 

And slumber hover'd o'er each lovely limb 
Of the fair occupants : if there be sprites, 

They should have walkM there in their sprightliest trimi 
By way of change from their sepulchral sites, 

And shown themselves as ghosts of better taste 

Than haunting some old ruin or wild waste. 



LXY. 

Many and beautiful lay those around, 

Like flowers of diflerent hue, and clime, and root, 
In some exotic garden sometimes found, 

With cost, and care, and warnitli induced to shoot. 
One with her auburn tresses lightly bound, 

And fair brows gently drooping, us the truit 
Nods from the tree, was slumbering with soft breath. 
And lips apart, which show'd the pearls beneath. 

Lxvr. 

One with her flush'd check laid on her white arm. 
And raven ringlets gather'd in dark crowd 

Above her brow, lay dreaming soft and warm ; 

And smiling through her dream, as through a cloud 

The moon breaks, half unveil'd each further charm, 
As, slightly stirring in her snowy shroud. 

Her beauties seized the unconscious hour of night 

All bashfully to struggle into light. 



Lxvn. 

This is no bull, although it sounds so ; for 

'T was night, but there were lamps, as hath been said. 

A third's all pallid aspect ofler'd more 

The traits of sleeping sorrow, and betray'd 

Through the heaved breast the dream of some far shore 
Beloved and deplored ; while slowly Btray'd 

(As night -dfiw, on a cypress glittering, lii\^ea 

The black bough) tear-drops through Uet ejerf dOTWtoaig 



•«40 DOH JUAH. 



LXTin. 



A fourth as marble, statue-like and stiD, 

Lay in a breathless, hush'd, and stony sleep ; 

White, cold, and pure, as looks a frozen rill. 
Or the snow minaret on an Alpine steep, 
/Or Lot's wife done in salt, — or what you will;-^ 
My similes are gather'd in a heap. 

So pick and choose — perhaps you 11 be content 

With a carved lady on a monument. / 

LXtS. 

And lo ! a fi Ah appears ; — and what is she t 
A lady of " a certain age," which means 

Certainly aged — what her years might be 
I know not, never counting past their teens ; 

But there sho slept, not q»iite so fair to see, 
As ere that awtul period intervenes 

Which lavs l>oth men and women on the shelf, 

To meditate upon tiioir sins and self. 



LXX. 

But all this time how slept, or dreain'd, Dudu T 
With strict inquiry I could ne'er discover, 

And scorn to add a svUablo untrue ; 

But ere the middle watch was hardly over, 

Just when the fading lamps waned dim and blue. 
And phantoms hover'd, or might seem to hover> 

To those who like their company, about 

The apartment, on a sudden she scream'd out : 

• LXXI. 

And that so loudly, that upstarted all 
The Oda, in a general commotion : 
Matron and maids, and those whom you may ca.] 

Neither, came crowding like the waves of ocean. 
One on the other, throughout the whole hah. 

All trembling, wondering, without the least notion. 
More tiian I have mysclC oC wYvoit co\A^ iia>iA 
The caJin Dudu so turbuYentXy waVe* 



AmO TL 



DOH jUAir. 841 



Lxxn. 



But wide awake she was, and round her bed. 
With floating draperies and with flying hair, 

"With eager eyes, and light but hurried tread, 
And bosoms, arms, and ankles glancing bare, 

And bright as any meteor ever bred 

By the North Pole, — they souglit her cause of care^ 

For she seem'd agitated, flush'd, and frighten'd, 

Her eye dilated and her colour heightened. 

LXXIU. 

But what is strange — and a strong proof how great 

A blessing is sound sleep — Juanna lay 
As fast as ever husband by his mate 

In holy matrimony snores away. 
Not all the clamour broke her happy state 

Of slumber, ere tlioy shook her, — so they say 
At least, — ami then she, too, unclosed her ^yes, 
And yawn'd a good deal with discreet surprise. 

LXXIV. 

And now commenced a strict investigation. 

Which, as all spoke at once, and more than once 

Conjecturing, wondering, asking a narration, 
Alike might puzzle either wit or dunce 

To ans>^er in a very clear oration. 

Dudu had never passM for wanting sense. 

But, being ** no orator as Brutus is," 

Could not at first expound what was amiss. 

LXXV. 

At length she said, that in a sluml)cr sound 
She dream'd a dream, of walking in a wood — 

A " wood obscure," like that where Dante found* 
Himself in at the age when all grow good ; 

Life's half-way house, where dames with virtue crown'd 
Run much less risk of lovers turning rude ; 

And that this wood was full of pleasant fruits, 

And trees of goodly growth and spreading roots , 

• "NeVmexxo dcY caminin' di noBtrm vita 
Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura," &c. 



849 DON JUAN. 



And in the midst a golden apple grew, «- 
A most prodigious pippin — but it hung 

Rather too high and distant ; that she threw 
Her glances on it, and then, longing, flung 

Stones and whatever she could pick up, to 

Bring down the fruit, which still perversely clang 

To its own bough, and dangled yet in sight. 

But always at a most provoking height ; — 



Lxxvn. 

That on a sudden, when she least had hope. 
It fell down of its own accord before 

Her feet ; that her first movement was to stoop 
And pick it up, and bite it to the core ; 

That just as her youn<j lip bciian to ope 
Upon the golden fruit the vision bore, 

A bee flew out and stung her to the heart. 

And so — she awoke with a great scream and start* 



Lxxvm. 

All this she told with some confusion and 
Dismay, the usual consequence of dreams 

Of the unpleasant kind, with none at hand 
To expound their vain and visionary gleams. 

I 've known some odd ones which seem'd really plann'd 
Prophetically, or that which one deems 

A " strange coincidence," to use a phrase 

By which such things are settled now-a-days. 



LXXIX. 

The damsels, who had thoughts of some great hamiy 

Began, as is the consequence of fear, 
To scold a little at the false alarm 

That broke for nothing on their sleeping ear. 
The matron, too, was wroth to leave hei warm 

Bed for the dream she had been obliged to hear. 
And chafed at poor Dudu, >w\xo oivX^ sw^^^. 
And said, that she was isoTty &\i^ Vwx^ civ^. 



DON jUAir. 341 



** I Ve heard of stories of a cock and bull ; 

But visions of an apple and a bee, 
To take us from our natural rest, and pull 

The whole Oda from their beds at half.past threei 
Would make us think the moon is at its full. 

Tou surely are unwell, child ! we must see, 
To-morrow, what his Highness's physician 
Will say to this hysteric of a vision. 



LXXXI. 

** And poor Juanna, too, the child's first night 
Within these walls, to be broke in upon 

With such a clamour — I had thought it ri^ht 
That the young stranger should not lie alone. 

And, as the quietest of all, she might • 

With you, Dudu, a good night's rest have known; 

But now I must transfer her to the charge 

Of Lolah — though her couch is not so large." 



LXXXII. 

Lolah's eyes sparkled at the proposition ; 

But poor Dudu, with large drops in her own, 
Resulting from the scolding or the vision. 

Implored that present pardon might be shown 
For this first fault, and that on no condition 

(She added in a soft and piteous tone) 
Juanna should l>e taken from her, and 
Her future dreams should all be kept in hand. 



LXXXIII. 

She promised never more to have a dream. 
At least to dream so loudly as just now ; 

She wonder'd at herself how she could scream — 
'T was foolish, nervous, as she must allow, 

A fond hallucination, and a theme 

For laughter — hut she felt her spirits low. 

And begg'd they would excuse her ; she 'd get ON«t 
This weakness in a few hours, and rccovet. 



DOH JUAH* CAMIO 



And here Juanna kindly interposed. 
And said she felt herself extremely well 

Where she then was, as her sound steep discloMd 
When all around rang like a tocsin-bell : 

She did not find herself the least disposed 
To quit her gentle partner, and to dwell 

Apart from one who had no sin to show. 

Save that of dreaming once ** mal-i-propos.* 



As thus Juanna spoke, Dudii tum'd round 
And hid her face within Juanna's breast: 

Her neck alone was seen, but that was found 
The colour of a buddin<r rose's crest. 

I can't t«*ll why she hlush'J, nor can expound 
The mystery of this rupture of their rest; 

All that I know is, that tiie facts I state 

Are true as truth has ever been of late. 



LXXXVI. 

And so good night to them, — or, if you will, 

Good morrow — for the cock had crown, and light 

Began to clothe each Asiatic hill, 

And the mosque crescent stnijiglod into sight 

Of the long caravan, which in tiie chill 

Of dewv dawn wound slowlv round each height 

That stretches to the stonv belt, which girds 

Asia, where Katf looks down upon the Kurds. 

LXXXVII. 

With the first ray, or rather gray of morn, 
Gulbeyaz rose from restlessness ; and pale 

As Passion rises, with its lK)som worn, 

Array'd herst^lf with mantle, gem, and veil. 

The nightingale that sings with the deep thorn. 
Which fable places in her breast of wail, 

h lighter far of heart and voice vVv^iv v\\oa& 
Whose headlong passions form xVievT ^ti^^x 



OiaMVL IH>N JUAK. 946 



And that 's the moral of this composition. 
If people would but see its real drifl ; — 

But Aai they will not do without suspicion, 
Because all gentle readers have the gi(t 

Of closing 'gainst the light their orbs of vision ; 
While gentle writers also love to lift 

Their voices 'gainst each other, which is natural, 

The numbers are too great for them to flatter all. 



LXXXIX. 

Rose the sultana from a bed of splendour, 
Softer than the soft Sybarite's, who cried 

Aloud because his feelings were too tender 
To brook a ruffled rose-leaf by his side, — 

So beautiful that art could little mend her. 

Though pale with conflicts between love and pride ; 

So agitated was she with her error, 

She did not even look into the mirror. 



xc. 



Also arose about the self-same time, 
Perhaps a little lafcr, her great lord. 

Master of thirty kingdoms so sublime. 
And of a wife by whom he was ahhorr'd ; 

A thing of much less import in that clime — 
At least to those of incomes which aflTord 

The filling up their whole connubial cargo — 

Than where two wives are under an embargo. 



xci. 

He did not think much on the matter, nor 

Indeed on any other : as a man 
He liked to have a handsome paramour 

At hand, as one may like to have a fan, 
And therefore of Circassians had good store* 

As an amusement after the Divan ; 
Though an unusual fit of love, or duty. 
Had made him lately bask in his bride^abeaxity* 



DOH jVAir. wanvik 



And now he rose ; and after due ablutione 

Exacted by the customs of the East, 
And prayers and other pious evolutions. 

He drank six cups of coffee at the least, 
And then withdrew to hear about the Russiaia^ 

Whose victories had recently increased 
In Catherine's reign, whom glory still adores 
As greatest of all sovereigns and w— — — s. 

zoni* 

But oh, thou grand legitimate Alexander ! 

Her son's son, let not this last phrase oflend 
Thine ear, if it should reach — and now rhymes wander 

Almost as far as Petersbur^jh, and lend 
A dreadful impulse to each loud meander 

Of murmuring Liberty's wide waves, which blend 
Their roar even with the Baltic's — so vou be 

m 

Your father's son, 't Is quite enough for me. 

xcrv. 

To call men love-begotten, or proclaim 
Their mothers as the antipodes of Timon, 

That hater of mankind, would be a shame, 
A libel, or whate'er you ploase to rhyme on : 

But people's ancestors arc history's game ; 
And if one lady's slip could leave a crime on 

All generations, 1 should like to know 

What pedigree the best would have to show ? 



xcv. 

Had Catherine and the sultan understood 

Their own true interests, which kings rarely know* 

Until 't is taught by lessons rather rude. 

There was a way to end their strife, although 

Perhaps precarious, had tiiey but thought good. 
Without the aid of prince or plenipo: 

She to dismiss her guards aud V\e V\\fi Wi^xs^ 
And £tr their other maltersi roeel «A.d ^^x^^^ta. 



CAMTOvi. D02f jrvAir. 347 



^X xovi. 



But ma it was, his Highness had to hold 
His daily council upon ways and means 

How to encounter with this martial scold. 
This modern Amazon and queen of queans ; 

And the perplexity bould not be told 

Of all the pillars of the state, which leans 

Sometimes a little heavy on the hacks 

Of those who cannot lay on a new tax. 



zcvn. 

Meantime Gulbeyaz, when her king was gone, 
Retired into her boudoir, a sweet place 

For love or breakfast ; private, pleasing, lone, 
And rich with all contrivances which s^mce 

Those gay recesses : — many a precious stone 
Sparkled along its roof, and many a vase 

Of porcelain held in the fctter'd flowers, 

Those captive soothers of a captive's hours. 



xcviii. 

Mother-of-pearl, and porphyry, and marble, 
Vied w^ith each other on this costly spot ; 

And singing birds without were heard to warble ; 
And the stain'd glass which lighted this fair grot 

Varied each ray ; — but all descriptions garble 
The true effect, and so we had better not 

Be too minute ; an outline is the best, — 

A lively reader's fancy does the rest. 



• xcix. 

And here^he summon'd Baba, and required 
Don Juan at his bands, and information 

Of what had pass'd since all the slaves retired. 
And whether he had occupied their station ; 

If matters had been managed as desired, 
And his disguise with due consideration 

Kept up ; and above all, the where and \\ONf 
Hehad pftsa'd the night, was what die wV«\i^dL \A\Sin% 



S46 DOlf JUAK. GAHIVVI^ 



O. 

Baba, with some embairassmenty replied 
To this long catechism of questions, ask'd 

More easily than answer'd, — that he had tried 
His best to obey in what he had been task'd ; 

But there seem'd something that he wish'd to hida^ 
Which hesitation more betray'd than mask'd ; 

He scratched his ear, the infallible resource 

To which embarrassed people have recourse* 



CI. 

Gulbeyaz was no model of true patience. 
Nor much disposed to wait in word or deed ; 

She liked quick answers in all conversations ; 
And when she saw him stumbling like a steed 

In his replies, she puzzled him for fresh ones ; 
And as his speech grew still more broken-kneed. 

Her cheek began to flush, her eyes to sparkle, 

And her proud brow's blue veins to swell and darkle 



oil. 

When Baba saw these symptoms, which he knew 
To bode bim no great good, be deprecated 

Her anger, and l)eseeciril she 'd bear bim through- 
He could not help the thing which be related : 

Then out it came at length, that to Dudu 

Juan was given in charges as bath l)een stated ; 

But not by Baba's fault, be said, and swore on 

The holy camel's hump, besides the Koran. 



cm. 

The cliief dame of the Oda, upon whom ^ 
The discipline of the whole baram bore, 

As soon as tbev re-entcr'd their own room, 
For Baba's tunction stoj)pM short at the door. 

Had settled all ; nor could be then presume 
(The aforesaid Baba) just then to do more. 

Without exciting such sus\ncvoTv aa 
Might make the matter slWi vrowe VWtl V\. ^^-^^ 



DON JVAMm 949 



CIT* 



He hoped, indeed he thought, he could be sure 
Juan had not betray'd himself; in fact 

T waa certain that his conduct had been pure^ 
Because a foolish or imprudent act 

Would not alone have made him insecure, 
But ended in his being found out and sack^df 

And thrown into the sea. — Thus Baba spoke 

Of all save Dudii's dream, which was no joke. 



cv. 

This he discreetly kept in the back ground. 

And talk'd away — and might have talk'd till noW| 

For any' further answer that he found, 

So deep an anguish wrung GuU)eyaz' brow ; 

HtT cheek turn'd aslies, ears rung, bniin wUiri'd round. 
As if she had received a sudden blow, 

And the heart's dew of pain sprang fast and chilly 

O'er her fair front, like Morning's on a lily. 



cvi. 

Although she was not of the fainting sort, 

Baba thought she would faint, but there he err'd — 

It was but a convulsion, wliich ttiough short 
Can never be deseribcd ; we all have heard. 

And some of us liave felt thus " all am<n't" 

When things Iwyond the coniiuon have occurr'd ; — 

Gulbeyaz proved in that brief agony 

What she could ne'er express — then how should I ? 



evil. 

She stood a moment as a Py tlioness 
Stands on her tripod, agonised, and full 

Of inspiration gather'd from distress, 

When all the heart-strings like wild hoi*scs pull 

The heart asunder ; — tlien, as more or less 
Their spewed abnt(>d or tlieir strength grew duU^ 

She sunk down on her seat by slow Ae5|;reea, 
And bow'dber throbbing head o'er tremXAin^Vaaawu 



iM mnr jvah. 



OVIlk 



Her face declined and was onaeen ; her hair 
Fell in long tresses like the wequng wiOoWf 

Sweeping the marble underneath her chairf 
Or rather sofa, (for it was all pillow, 

A low, soft ottoman,) and black despair 

Stinr'd up and down her bosom like a billow. 

Which rushes to some shore whose shingles cheek 

Its fiurther course, but must receiTa its wieok* 



caoLm 

Her head hung down, and her long hair in fti>ftpiBg 
Conceal'd her features better Uwn a Teil ; 

And one hand o'er the ottoman lay drooping. 
White, waxen, and as alabaster pale : 

Would that I were a painter ! to be grouping 
All that a poet drags into detail ! 

Oh that my words were colours ! but their tints 

May serve perhaps as outlines or slight liints. 



02. 

Baba, who knew by experience when to talk 
And when to hold his tongue, now held it till 

This passion might blow o'er, nor dared to balk 
Gulbeyaz' taciturn or speaking will. 

At length she rose up, and began to walk 
Slowly along tiie room, but silent still, 

And her brow clear'd, but not her troubled eye ; 

The wind was down, but still the sea ran high. 



cxi. 

She stopp'd, and raised her head to speak — but paused, 

And then moved on again with rapid pace ; 
Then slacken'd it, which is the march most caused 

By deep emotion : — you may sometimes trace 
A feeling in each footstep, as disclosed 

By Sallust in his Catiline, who, chased 
By all the demons of aU pa»3.\oTi&) %V\oVd 
Their work even by the way Vn ^YivcYiVa Vt^^« 



«L 



DOR jVAir. S51 



ozn. 



Gulbeyaz stopp'd and beckon'd Baba : — ^ Slave ! 

Bring the two slaves ! " she said in a low tone* 
But one which Baba did not like to brave, 

And yet he shudder'd, and seem'd rather prone 
To prove reluctant, and begg'd leave to crave . 

(Though he well knew the meaning) to be shown 
What slaves her highness wish'd to indicate, 
For fear of any error, like the late. 



czm. 

•• The Georgian and her paramour," replied 
The imperial bride — and added, " Let the boat 

Be ready by the secret portal's side : 

You know the rest," The words stuck in her throat. 

Despite her injured love and fiery pride ; 
And of this Baba willin^lv took note, 

And begg'd by every Imir of Mahomet's beard, 

She would revoke the order he had heard. 



cxrv. 

^ To hear is to obey," he said ; " but still. 
Sultana, think upon the consequence : 

It is not that I shall not all fulfil 

Your orders, even in their severest sense ; 

But such precipitation may end ill. 

Even at your own imperative expense : 

I do not mean destruction and exposure. 

In case of any premature disclosure ; 



cxv. 

*' But your own feelings. Even should all the rest 
Be hidden by the rolling waves, which hide 

Already many a once love-beaten breast 
Deep in the caverns of the deadly tide — 

You love this boyish, new, seraglio guest, 
And if this violent remedy be tried — 

Excuse my freedom, when I here assuro you. 

That killing bim is not the way to cure you* 



m son JUAV 



^ What dost thou know of Ioto or feeKog? — WnltAl 
Begone ! ** she cried, with kindling ejres— ** and do 

My bidding ! " Baba vanish'dy for to stretch 
His own remonstrance further he well knew 

Might end in acting as his own ** Jack Ketch ; " 
And though he wish'd extremely to get through 

This awkward business without harm to othQr% 

He still preferred his own neck to another's. 



cmsm 

Away he went then upon his commission^ 

Growling and grumbling in good Turkish phrase 
Against all women of whatever condition, 

Especially sultanas and their ways; 
Their obstinacy, pride, and indecision, 

Their never knowing their own mind two days. 
The trouble that they gave, their immorality. 
Which made him daily bless bis own neutrality. 



ex VIII* 

And then he calFd his brethren to his aid, 
And sent one on a summons to the pair, 

That they must instantly be well array 'd. 
And above all be comb'd even to a hair, 

And brought before the empress, who had made 
Inquiries after them with kindest care : 

At which Dudii look'd strange, and Juan silly ;. 

But go they must at once, and will I — nill L j 



CXIX. 

And here I leave tliem at their preparation 
For the imperial presence, wherein whether 

Gulbeyaz show'd them both commiseration, 
Or got rid of the parties altogether, 

Like other angry ladies of her nation, — 
Are things the turning of a hair or feather 

JIfay settle ; but far be \ from m^ lo ^nVvc^v^tia 
In what way feminine caprice ma^ ^\aav^^VA% 



pon jVAir. 



I leave them for the present with good wishee, 
lliough doubts of their well-doing, to arrange 

Another part of history ; for the dishes 

Of this our banquet we must sometimes change ; 

And trusting Juan may escape the fishes, 
Although his situation now seems stranire, 

And scarce secure, as such digressions are fkir. 

The Muse will take a little touch at warfare. 



\ 



) 



»-> 



DON JOAN. 



G4NT0 THB 8EYENTBL 



I. 



O Love ! O Glory ! what are ye who fly 

Around us ever, rarely to alight 7 
There 's not a meteor in the polar sky 

Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight* 
Chilli and chain'd to cold earth, we lift on high 

Our eyes in search of either lovely light ; 
A thousand and a thousand colours they 
Assume, then leave us on our freezing way. 



n. 

And such as they are, such my present tale is, 
A non.descript and ever- varying rhyme, 

A versified Aurora Boreal is, 

Which flashes o'er a waste and icy clime. 

When we know what all are, we must bewail usy 
But ne'ertheless, I hope it is no crime 

To laugh at all things — for I wish to know 

WJuily af\er oZZ, are all things — but a sluno t 



They accuse me — Me — the present writer of 
The present poem — of — I know not what — 

A tendency to under-rate and scofT 

At human power and virtue, and all that ; 

And this they say in language rather rough. 
Good God ! I wonder what they wo\i\d V» «X\ 

I say no more than hath been said in DaivX^^tt 

Verse, and by Solomon and by CervanVea \ 



356 DOR JUAK. 



IT. 



Gunowtk 



By Swift, by Machiavel, by Rocbcfoocault, 

By F6n61on, by Luther, and by Plato ; 
By TillotsoD, and Wesley, and Rousseau, 

;Who knew this life was not worth a potato. 
T is not their fault, nor mine, if this be so — t 

For my part, I pretend not to be Cato, 
Nor even Diogenes. — We live and die, 
But whidh is best, you know no more than L 



V. 

Socrates said, our only knowledge was, 

^ To know that nothing could be known ; " a pleasan 

Science enough, which levels to an ass 

Each man of wisdom, future, past, or present. 

Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas! 

Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent. 

That he himself felt only ** like a youth 

Picking up shelL^ by the great ocean — Truth." 



VI. 

Ecclcsiastes said, " that all is vanity " — 

Mosit modern preachers say the same, or show it 

By their examples of true Christianity : 

In short, all know, or very soon may know it ; 

And in this scen^ of all-confess'd inanity, 
By saint, by sage, by preacher, and by poet, 

Must I restrain me, throuj^h the fear of strife. 

From holding up the nothingness of life? 



VII. 

Dogs, or men ! — for I flatter you in saying 

That ye are dogs — your betters far — ye may 
Read, or read not, what I am now essaying 

To show ve what ve are in every way. 
As little as the moon stops for the baying 

Of wolves, will the bright muse withdraw one ray 
From out her skies — then \\ovi\ \o\it \^\^ ^t^^^lX 
Wji7e she still silvers o'er your ^\oova>f v^^^* 



(UMTU TIL l>0]!r JUAN* 251 



vxn« 

^ Fierce loves and faithless wars " — I am not sure 
If this be the right reading — 't is no matter ; 

The fact 's about the same, I am secure ; 
I sing them both, and am about to batter 

A town which did a famous siege endure. 
And was beleaguer'd-both by land and water 

By SouvarofT, or Anglice Suwarrow, 

Who loved blood as an alderman loves marrow* 



The fortress is call'd Ismail, and is placed 
Upon the Danube's left branch and left bank. 

With buildings in the Oriental taste, 
But still a fortress of the foremost rank, 

Or was at least, unless 't is since defaced, 

Which with your conquerors is a common prank: 

It stands some eighty vcrsts from the high sea. 

And measures round of toiscs thousands three. 



X. 



Within the extent of this fortification 
A borough is comprised along the height 

Upon the lot't, which from its loftier station 
Commands the city, and upon its site 

A Greek had raised around this elevation 
A quantity of palisades upright, 

So placed as to impede the fire of those 

Who held the place, and to assist the foe's. 



XI. 

This circumstance may st>rve to give a notion 
Of the high talents of this new Vauban : 

But the town ditch below was deep as ocean. 
The rampart higher than you 'd wish to hang 

But then there was a great want of precaution 
(Prithee, excuse this engineering slang^. 

Nor work a Jvanced, nor cover'd way v?«La tWt^ 
To hint at least « Here is no thoTOUg)\&ite? 



» 



3M DOH JUAH. 



But a stone baation, with a narrow goige. 
And walls as thick as most skulls bom as ]reC ; 

Two batteries, cap^pie, as our Saint George^ 
Case-mated one, and 't other " & barbettei 

Of Danube's bank took formidable charge ; 
While two-and-twenty cannon, duly set^ 

Rose over the town's right side, in bristling tier 

Forty feet high, upon a cavalier. 



But from the river the town 's open quite, 
Because the Turks could never bo persuaded 

A Russian vessel e'er would heave in sight ; ' 
And sucli their creed was, till tiiey were invaded. 

When it grew rather late to set tilings risht. 
But as the Danul)e could not well l)e waded, 

Thev look'd upon the Muscovite flotilla, 

And ouly shouted, " Allah ! " and •* Bis MiUah] " 



XIV. 



riT 



The Russians now were ready to attack ; 

But oh, ye goddesses of war and plory ! 
How shall I spell the name of each Cossacque 

Who were immortal, could one tvW their story t 
Alas ! what to their memory can lack ? 

Achilles* self was not more grim and gory 
Than thousands of this new and polislf d nation, 
Whose names want nothing but — pronunciation* 



XV. 

Still I 'II record a few, if but to increase *• 

Our euphony : there was StrongcnotF, and StrokonoflT 
Mcknop, Sorge Low, Arsniew of modern Greece, 

And Tschitsshakotr, and Roguenotf, and Chokenofi^ 
And others of twelve consonants apiece ; 

And more might be found out, if I could poke enough 
Into gazettes ; but Fame (^capucvova s\.nta^\.\^ 
It aeemSf has got an ear as weW aa lTuvxi<^X.t 



POK JVAV. Wt 



XVI* 



And cannot tone those discords of narration. 
Which may be names at Moscow, into rhyme ; 

Tet there were several worth commemoration, 
As e'er was virgin of a nuptial chime \ 

Bod words, too, fitted for the peroration 
Of Londonderry drawling against time. 

Ending in ^ ischskin," << ousckin,'' ^ ifiskchy^''2M' ouakii'' 

Of whom we can insert but Rousamouski, i ^ 



xvn. 

Scherematoff and Chrematofi*, Koklophti, 
Koclobski, Kourakin, and Mouskio Pouskin, 

All proper men of weapons, as e*er scofTd high 
Against a foe, or ran a sabre throuf^h skin : 

Little cared tliey for Malioinct or Mufti, 

Unless to make their kettle-drums a new skin 

Out of their hides, if parchment had grown dear. 

And no more handy substitute been near. 



XVIII. 

Then there were foreigners of much renown, 
Of various nations, and all volunteers ; 

Not fighting for their country or its crown. 
But wishing to be one day brigadiers : 

Also to have the sacking of a town ; 

A pleasant thing to young men at their years. 

'Mongst them were several Englishmen of pith, 

Sixteen call'd Thomson, and nineteen named Smith. 



XIX. 

Jack Tliomson and Bill Thomson ; — all the rest 
Had been calPd " Jcwimy," after the great bard • 

I do n*t know whether they had arms or crest, 
But such a godfather 's as good a card. 

Three of the Smiths were Peters ; but the I>est 
Amongst them all, hard blows to inflict ot vj^it^ 

Wns TiSy since so rcnown'd " in country c\\\tLTt«t^ 
At Halifax ; " but now he served the TuTt^xa 



DOH JUAH* 04ViaVBL 



The rest were Jacks and Gills and Wills and Bilb ; 

But when I 've added that the elder Jack Smith 
Was bom in Cumberland among the hills. 

And that his father was an honest blacksmith- 
I 've said all / know of a name that fills 

Three lines of the despatch in taking ** Schmacksniith,* 
A village of Moldavia's waste, wherein 
He fell, immortal in a buUetin. 



xzi. 

I wonder (although Mars no doubt 's a god I 
Praise) if a man's name in a huUetin 

May make up for a bullet in his body ? 
I hope this little question is no sin, 

Because, thoufjh I am but a simple noddy 

I tliink one Sliuks|)eare puts the same thought in 

The mouth of some one in his plays so doting 

Which many people pass for wits by quoting. 



XXII. 

Then there were Frenchmen, gallant, young, and gay • 

But I 'm too great a patriot to record 
Their Gallic names upon a glorious day ; 

I 'd rather tell ten lies than say a word 
Of truth; — such truths are treason; they betray 

Their country ; and as traitors are abhorr'd 
Who name the French in English, save to show 
How Peace should make John Bull the Frenchman's £oe^ 



XXIII. 

rhe Russians, having built two batteries on 

An isle near Ismail, had two ends in view ; 
The first was to bomlmrd it, and knock down 

The public buildings and the private too, 
No matter what poor souls mii;ht be undone. 
The city's shape suggested this, 't is true ; 
Form'd like an amphitheaVre, eac\\ Av;^\Vvtv^ 
Presented a fine mark to throw a. aVieXWii. 



DON JUAK. Ml 



The second object was to profit by 

The moment of the general consternation, 

To attack the Turk's flotilla, which lay nigh 
Extremely tranquil, anchor'd at its station : 

But a third motive was as probably 
To frighten them into capitulation ; 

A phantasy which sometimes seizes warriors, 

Unless they are game as bull-dogs and fox-terriers. 



A habit rather blamable, which is 

That of despising those we combat with. 

Common in many cases, was in this 

The cause of killing TchitchitzkofT and Smith ; 

One of the valorous " Sniitlis " whom we sliall miss 
Out of those nineteen who late rhymed to " pith ; ' 

But 't is a name so spread o'er " Sir " and " Madam,** 

That one would think the first who bore it <* Adam." 



XXVI. 

The Russian batteries were incomplete, 
Because they were constructed in a hurry ; 

Thus the same cause which makes a verse want feet, 
And throws a cloud o'er Longman and John Murray^ 

When the sale of new books is not so fleet 
Ah they who print them think is necessary. 

May likewise put oflf for a time what story 

Sometimes calls " murder," and at others " glory.** 



xxvn. 

Whether it was their engineer's stupidity. 

Their haste, or waste, I neither know nor carOy 

Or some contractor's personal cupidity. 
Saving his soul by cheating in the ware 

Of homicide, but there was no solidity 
In the new batteries erected there ; 

Thoy cither missed, or they were never mW&« 
And added greatly to the mitwing UaU 



SdS DON JUAX. 



A sad miscalculation about distance 
Made all tlieir naval matters incorrect ; 

Three fire-ships lost their amiable existence 
Before they reach'd a spot to take effect : 

Tlic match was lit too soon, and no assistance 
Could remedy this lubberly defect ; 

They blew up in the middle of the river, 

Whilcy though 't was dawn, the Turks slept fast u eier 



At seven they rose, however, and surveyed 

The Russ flotilla getting under way ; 
'T was nine, when still advancing undismayed. 

Within a cable's length their vessels lay 
OtV Ismail, and counnonced a cannonade, 

Which was return'd with interest, I may say. 
And by a fire of musketry anil grape, 
And shells and shot of ever}' size and shape. 



XXX. 

For six hours bore thev without intermission 
Tiie Turkish fire, and aided by their own 

Land batteries, workM their guns with great precision: 
At length thev found mere cannonade alone 

By no means would produce the town's submission, 
And made a signal to retreat at one. 

One bark blew up, a second near the works 

Running aground, was taken by the Turks. 



XXXT. 

The Moslem, too, had lost both ships and men ; 

But when they saw the enemy retire. 
Their Delhis mann'd some boats, and sailM again, 

And gall'd the Russians with a lieavy fire, 
And tried to make a landing on the main ; 

Bat here the effect fell short of their desire : 
Count Damas drove them V^blcVl \i\Vo VV\c Nj^iXet 
PtilLmelly and willi a w\io\e gaieVUi o^ sW>\^\«t, 



gfvr^mk ^^"^ JUAH. 



** If" (says the historian here) " I could report 
All that the Russians did upon this day, 

I think that several volumes would fall short, 
And I should still have many things to say ; " 

And so he says no more — but pays his court 
To some distinguished strangers in that fray ; 

HThe Prince de Ligne, and Langeron, and Daiftaa% 

Names great as any that the roll of Fame has. 

This being the case, may show us what Fame i§: 
For out of these three " preux ChewdierSj^ how 

Many of common readers give a guess 

That such existed ? (and they may live now 

For aught we know.) Renown 's all hit or miss; 
There 's fortune even in fame, we must allow. 

'T is true, the Memoirs of the Prince de Ligne 

Have half withdrawn from him oblivion's screen. 



XXXIV. 

But here are men who fought in gallant actions 

As gallantly as ever heroes fought, 
But buried in the heap of such transactions 

Their names are rarely found, nor often sought. 
Thus even good fame may suffer sad contractionSy 

And is extinguish'd sooner than she ought : 
Of all our modern battles, I will bet 
You can't repeat nine names from each Gazette. 



XXXT. 

In short, this last attack, though rich in glory, 

ShowM that somewhere^ somehow, there was a fault. 

And Admiral Rihas (known in Russian story) 
Most strongly recommended an assault ; 

In which he was opposed by young and hoary, 
Which made a long debate ; but I muat YicCll, 

For if J wrote down every warrior's 8peec\i> 
/ doubt few readers e'er would mount tVie bxeoxXu 



9S4 mnr juah. 



There was a man, if that he was a maiiv 

Not that his manhood could be callM in qoeslioiiy 

For had he not been Hercules, his span 
Had been as short in youth as indigestion 

Made his last illness, when, all worn and wan. 
He died beneath a tree, as much unbless'd on 

The soil of the green province he had wasted. 

As e'er was locust on the land it blasted. 



This was Potemkin — a great thing in days 
When homicide and harlotry made great ; 

If stars and titles could entail long praise, 
His glory ininrht iialf equal his estate. 

This fellow, being six foot liitjh, could raise 
A kind of phantasy proportionate 

In the then sovereign of the Russian people. 

Who measured men as you would do a steeple. 



XXXVIII. 

While things wore in al)eyanco, Ribas sent 
A courier to the prince, and ho succeeded 

In ordering matters at'ter his own hent ; 
I cannot tell the way in which he pleaded. 

But shortly he had cause to ho content. 
In the mean time, the hatteries proceeded, 

And fourscore cannon on the Danube's border 

Were briskly fired and answer'd in due order 

XXXIX. 

But on the thirteenth, when already part 

Of the troops were emhark'd, the siege to raise, 
A courier on the spur in-^pired new heart 

Into all panters for newspaper praise, 
As well as dilettanti in war's art, 

By his despatches coucU'd in \»lthy phrase ; 
Announcing the appo'intm«^ut o^ Wv2l\.\on^^t o^ 
Battles to the command, F'ieU.>Vx\T^\v\A ^ovln^xq^ 



OMWO^n. DON JUAir* 



XL. 



Tlie letter of the prince to the same marshal 
Was worthy of a Spartan, liad the cause 

Been one to which a good heart could be partial • 
Defence of freedom, country, or of laws ; 

But as it was mere lust of power to o'er-arch all 
With its proud brow, it merits slight applause, 

Save for its style, which said, all in a trice, 

^ Tou will take Ismail at whatever price." 



u. 



** Let there be light ! " said God, ** and there was light ! ' 
^ LfOt there be blood ! " says man, and there 's a sea ! 

The fiat of this spoii'd child of the Night 
(For Day ne'er saw his merits) could decree 

More evil in an hour, than thirty bright 

Summers could renovute, though they should be 

Lovely as those which ripcn'd Eden's fruit ; 

For war cuts up not only branch but root* 



XLII. 

Our friends the Turks, who with loud " Allahs " now 

Began to signalise the Russ retreat, 
Were damnably mistaken ; few are slow 

In thinking that their enemy is beat, 
Or beaten^ i^ you insist on grammar, though 

I never think about it in a heat,) 
But here I say the Turks were much mistaken. 
Who hating hogs, yet wish'd to save their bacon* 



XLin. 

For, on the sixteenth, at full gallop, drew 

In sight two horsemen, who were deem'd Cossacque% 
For some time, till they came in nearer view. 

They had but little baggage at their backs, 
For there were but three shirts between the two ; 

But on they rode upon two Ukraine \\acVLa, 
TiDf In approaching^ were at length descfi^ti 
Ja tbia plain pair, Suwunow and his guvde. 



966 DOH JVAK, 



** Great joy to London now ! ** saya some great fboU 
When London had a grand illomination. 

Which to that bottle-conjuror, John Bnll* 
la of all dreams the first hallucination ; 

So that the streets of colour'd lamps are full^ 
That Sage (stdd John) surrender at discretion 

His purse, his soul, his sense, and even his nonaeim^ 

To gratify, like a huge moth, this one sense. 



XL?. 

T is strange that he should farther ^ damn his eyesy** 
For they are damn'd ; that once all-famous oath 

Is to the devil now no farther prize. 

Since John has lately lost the use of both. 

Debt he calls wealtb, and taxes Paradise : 

And Famine, with her gaunt and bony growth. 

Which stares him in the face, he won't examine. 

Or swears that Ceres hath begotten Famine. 

XLVI. 

But to the tale ; — great joy unto the camp ! 

To Russian, Tartar, English, French, Cossacqua^ 
O'er whom Suwarrow shone like a gas lamp, 

Presaging a most luminous attack ; 
Or like a wisp along the marsh so damp, 

Which leads l>eholders on a boggy walk. 
He flitted to and iro a dancing light, 
Which all who saw it follow 'd, wrong or right* 

XL VII. 

But, certes, matters took a different face ; 

There was enthusiasm and much applause. 
The fleet and camp saluted with great grace. 

And all presaged good fortune to their cause. 
Within a cannon-shot length of the place 

They drew, constructed ladders, repnli**d flaws 
In fonnet works, made new, piev^te^ l^a^cvii^A^ 
And ail kinds of bcncvoVcnt iuaG\uii<»% 



«wTovn. DOir JUAH. S67 



XLTm« 

T is thus the spirit of a single mind 

Makes that of multitudes take one direction, 

As roll the waters to the hreathing wind, 

Or roams the herd beneath the bull's protection * 

Or as a little dog will lead the blind, 

Or a bell-wether form the flock's connexion 

By tinkling sounds, when they go forth to victual ; 

Such is the sway of your great men o'er little. 

XLIX. 

The whole camp rung with joy ; you would have thought 
That they were going to a marriage feast 

(This metaphor, I think, holds good as aught, 
Since there is discord after both at least) : 

There was not now a luggage-boy but sought 
Danger and spoil with ardour much increased; 

And why ? because a little — odd — old man, 

Stript to his shirt, was come to lead the van. 



L. 

But so it was ; and every preparation 
Was made with all alacrity : the first 

Detachment of three columns took its station. 
And waited but the signal's voice to burst 

Upon the foe : the second's ordination 
Was also in three columns, with a thirst 

For glory gaping o'er a sea of slaughter : 

The third, in columns two, attack'd by water* 

LI. 

New batterie? were erected, and was held 
A general council, in which unanimity. 

That stranger to most councils, here prevail'd, 
As sometimes happens in a great extremity ; 

And every difficulty being dispell'd. 

Glory began to dawn with due sublimity, 

While Souvaroff, determined to obtain it. 

Wis teaching his recruits to use t\\o bayoTi^l%^ 

* Fact : Souvoruff did ihii \n peTvoa. 



SAS INHT JUAH. 



UU 



It is an actual fact, that he» commander 

In chiefs in proper person deignM to drill 
The awkward squad, and could afford to squandsr 

His time, a corporal's duty to fulfil ; 
Just as you M break a sucking salamander 
. To swallow flame, and never take it ill » 
He show'd them how to mount a ladder (whiph 
Was not like Jacob's) or to cross a ditch.^ 



Also he dress'd up, for the nonce, fascines 
Like men with turbans, scimitars, and diilcs, 

And made them charge with bayonet these machmei^ 
By way of lesson against actual Turks; 

And when well practised in these mimic scenes. 
He judged tlicm proper to assail the works ; 

At which your wise men sneer'd in phrases witty : — • 

He made no answer ; but he took the city. 



LIV. 

Most things were in this posture on the eve 
Of the assault, and all the camp was in 

A stern repose ; which you would scarce conceive; 
Yet men resolved to dash throu(;h thick and thin 

Are very silent when they once believe 
That all is settled : — there was little din, 

For some were thinking of their home and friends. 

And others of themselves and latter ends. 



LV. 

Suwarrow chiefly was on the alert, 

Surveying, drilling, ordering, jesting, pondering; 
For the man was, we safely may assert, 

A thing to wonder at beyond most wondering ; 
Hero, butibon, half-demon, and half-dirt, 

Praying, instructing, desolating, blundering; 
Now Mars, now Mouius \ an^ nvWu \)^ii\. 1^ st^tm 
A fortress^ Harlequin in unv^oTm. 



cimotB. DON JUAN. 369 



LTI. 

The day before the assault, while upon drill — 
For this great conqueror play*d the corporal — 

Some Cossacques, hovering like hawks round a hiii^ 
Had met a party towards the twilight's Tally 

One of whom spoke their tongue — or well or ill, 
T was much that he was understood at all ; 

But whether from his voice, or speech, or manner, 

They found that he had fought beneath their banner* 



Lvn. 

Whereon immediately at his request 

They brought him and his comrades to head-quarters 
Their dress was Moslem, hut you might liave guess'd 

That these were merely masquerading Tartars, 
And that beneath each Turkish-fashion'd vest 

LarkM Christianity ; which sometimes barters 
Her inward grace for outward show, and makes 
It difficult to shun some strange mistakes. 



LVIII. 

Suwarrow, who was standing in his shirt 
Before a company of Calmucks, drilling. 

Exclaiming, fooling, swearing at the inert. 
And lecturing on the noble art of killing,— 

For deeming human clay but common dirt, 
This great philosopher was thus instilling 

His maxims, which to martial comprehension 

Proved death in battle equal to a pension ; — 



LIX. 

Suwarrow, when he saw this company 

Of Cossacques and their prey, turn'd round and east 
Upon them his slow brow and piercing eye : — 

** Whence come ye ? " — ** From Constantinople last. 
Captives just now escaped," was the reply. 

«' What are ye ? " — •* What you see uaJ*^ "^ive^^ i^^jm?^ 
This dialogue ; for he who answer'd Vmevf 
To whom he spokCf and made his wotds V^ul (e^« 



S7) DOH JVAV. 



** Tour names?" — ** Mine'a Johnson, and my eommde^ 
The other tvo are women, and the third [Juan ; 

Is neither man nor woman." The chief threw on 
The party a slight glance, then said, ^ I have heard 

Your name hefbre, the second is a new one : 
To bring the other three here was absurd : 

But let that pass : — I think I have heard your 

In the Nikolaiew regiment 1" — *^ The same." 



[tackf" 
« You served at Widdin T " — « Yes,**— « You led the at- 
" I did."— «• What next?"—" I really hardly know.** 
** You were the first i' tlie breach ? " — ** I was not alack 

At least to follow those who might be so." 
« What folIowM ? " — " A sliot laid me on my back. 

And I became a prisoner to the foe." 
«* You shall have vengeance, for the town surrounded 
Is twipe as strong as that where you were wounded. 



Lxn. 

" Where will you serve ? " — " Where'er you please.*' — 
You like to be the hope of the forlorn, [" I know 

And doubtless would he tbremost on the foe 
After the hardships you 've already borne. 

And this vouncj fellow — sav what can he do ? 
He with the b<»ardles.s chin and garments torn? * 

" Why, general^ if he hath no greater fault 

In war than love, he had better lead the assault." 



Lxni. 

** He shall if that he dare." Here Juan l>ow'd 

Low as the compliment deserved. Suwarrow 
Continued : *• Your old rejriment 's allowM, 
By special providence, to lead to-morrow. 
Or it may be to-night, the assault : I have vow'd 

To several saints, that shortly plou^rh or harrow 
Shall pass o'er what was \Ania\\, iii\d \V% Xxsksk 
Be unimpeded by the proud^t moao^. 



cum fiL DON JUAX. 87] 



LXIV. 

** So DOW, my lads, for glory ! " — Here he tum'd 
And driird away in the most classic Russian, 

Until each high, heroic bosom burn'd 

For cash and conquest, as if from a cushion 

A preacher had held forth (who nobly spurn'd 

All earthly goods save tithes) and bade them push on 

To slay the Pagans who resisted, battering 

The armies of the Christian Empress Catherine. 



LXY. 

Johnson, who knew by this long colloquy 
Himself a favourite, ventured to address 

Suwarrow, though engaged with accents high 
In his resumed amusement. " I confess 

My debt in being thus allowM to die 

Among the foremost ; but if you 'd express 

Explicitly our several posts, my friend 

And self would know what duty to attend." 



LXVI. 

** Right ! I was busy, nnd forgot. Why, you 
Will join your former regiment, which should be 

Now under arms. IIo ! KatskoiF, take him to — 
(Here he call'd up a Polish orderly) 

His post, I mean the regiment Nikohiiew : 
The stranger stripling may remain with me; 

He 's a fine boy. The women may be sent 

To the other baggage, or to the sick tent." 



LXVII. 

But here a sort of scene l)cgan to ensue : 

The ladies, — who by no means had been bred 

To be disposed of in a way so new, 
Although their haram education led 

Doubtless to that of doctrines the most true. 
Passive obedience, — row raised up the hcad^ 

With Dashing eyes and starting tears, unA ftun^ 

TlwJr arms, as bcaa their wings about IVievi ^cyQA%% 



DOm IVAMm CaMTO fiL 



XXWMMU 



O'er the promoted couple of braye men 

Who wero thus honpur'd by the greateit chNf 

That ever peopled hell with heroes slain. 
Or plunged a province or a realm in grief* 

Oh, foolish mortals ! Always taught in vain ! 
Oh, glorious laurel ! since for one sole leaf 

Of thine imaginary deathless tree. 

Of blood and tears must flow the unebUng 



Suwarrow, who had small regard for tears^ 
And not much sympathy for Mood, snrvey'd 

The women with their hair about their ears 
And natural agonies, with a slight shade 

Of feeling : for however habit sears 

Men's hearts against whole millions, when their trade 

Is butchervj sometimes a single sorrow 

Will touch even heroes — and such was Suwarrow. 



LXX. 

He said, — and in the kindest Calmuck tone,— 
<* Why, Johnson, what the devil do you mean 

By bringing women here ? Thoy shall be shown 
All the attention possible, and seen 

In safety to the wagons, where alone 

In fact they can be safe. You should have oeen 

Aware this kind of baggage never thrives : 

Save wed a year, I hate recruits with wives." 



LXXI. 

** May it please your excellency," thus replied 

Our British friend, <* these are the wives of other% 

And not our own. I am too qualified 
Bv service with mv military brothers 

To break the rules by bringing one 's own bride 
iDto a camp : I know that nought so bothers 

The hearts of the heroic on a cYvviT^^g^ 
A3 having a small famWy at W^e. 



6A1IT0 ¥IL 



DOlf JUAir. 271 



''But these are but two Turkish ladies, who 
With their attendant aided our escape, 

And afterwards accompanied us through 
A thousand perils in this dubious shape. 

To me this kind of life is not so new ; 

To them, poor things, it is an awkward scrape. 

I therefore, if you wish me to fight freely, 

Request that they may both be used genteelly.'* 



Lxxm. 

Meantime these two poor girls, with swimming eye% 
Look'd on as if in doubt if they could trus 

Their own protectors ; nor was their surprise 
Less than their grief (and truly not less just) 

To see an old man, ratlier wild than wise 
In aspect, plainly clad, bcsmear'd with dust, 

Strlpt to his waistcoat, and that not too clean. 

More fear'd than all the sultans ever seen. 



Lxxrv. 

For every thing seem'd resting on his nod, 

As they could read in all eyes. Now to theiii^ 

Who were accustom'd, as a sort of god. 
To see the sultan, rich in many a gem. 

Like an imperial peacock stalk abroad 
(That royal bird, whose tail 's a diadem,) 

With all the pomp of power, it was a doubt 

How power could condescend to do without. 



LXXV. 

John Johnson, seeing their extreme dismay. 
Though little versed in feelings oriental. 

Suggested some slight comfort in his way : 
Don Juan, who was much more sentimental. 

Swore they should see him by the dawn of day, 
Or that the Russian army should te^ivV. ;sl)\\ 

And, strange to say, they found some coTvaoXt^NAOti^ 
In fbis — tor females like exaggeraUou. 



174 DON JVAir. 



And then with tears, and sighs^ and aome alight 
They jmrted for the present — theae to await^ 

According to the artillery's hits or missea. 
What sages call Chance, Providence, or Fate 

(Uncertainty is one of many blisses, 
A mortgage on Humanity's estate) — 

While their beloved firiends began to arm, 

To burn a town which never £d them harob 



Lzxvn. 

Suwarrow, — who but saw things in the groaa^ 
Being much too gross to see them in detail, 

Wlio calculated life as so much dross, 
And as the wind a widow'd nation's wail, 

And cared as little lor his army's loss 

(So that their elTorts should at length prevail) 

As wife and tricnds did for the boils of Job, -^ 

What was 't to him to hear two women sob ? 



Lxxvni. 

Nothing. — The work of glory still went on 

In preparations for a cannonade 
As terrible as that of Iliun, 

If Homer had found mortars ready made ; 
But now, instead of slaying Priam's son. 

We only can but talk of escalade, 
Bombs, drums, guns, bastions, batteries, bayonets, bulleta ; 
Hard words, which stick in the sofl Muses' gullets* 



LXXLX. 

Oh, thou eternal Homer ! who couldst charm 

All ears, though long ; all ages, though so short. 
By merely wielding with poetic arm 

Arms to which men will never more resort. 
Unless gunpowder should lie found to harm 

3Iuch less than is the hope of every court, 
Wiich now is leagued young Ytec^om V» vjs^&n^ \ 
But they will not find Liberty a Txoy •. — 



SAIfTOVU. 



DON JUAN. * 975 



LXXZ* 

dh, thou eternal Homer ! I have now 

To paint a siege, wherein more men were slaiiit 
With deadlier engines and a speedier blow, 

Than in thy Greek gazette of that campaign ; 
And yet, like all men else, I must allow. 

To vie with thee would be about as vain 
As for a brook to cope with ocean's flood ; 
But still we moderns equal you in blood ; 



LXXXI. 

If not in poetry, at least in fact ^ 

And fact is truth, the grand desideratum ! 

Of which, howe'er the Muse describes each act. 
There should be, ne'ertlieless, a slight substratum. 

But now the town is going to be attack'd ; 

Great deeds are doing — how shall I relate 'em t. 

Souls of immortal generals ! Phoebus watches 

To colour up his rays from your despatches. 



Lxxxn, 

Oh, ye great bulletins of Bonaparte ! 

Oh, ye less grand long lists of kill'd and wounded ! 
Shade of Leonidas ! who fought so hearty. 

When uiy poor Greece was once, as now, surrounded ! 
Oh, Caesar's Commentaries ! now impart, ye. 

Shadows of glory ! (lest I be confounded) 
A portion of your fading twilight hues, 
So beautiful, so fleeting, to the Muse. 



Lxxxni. 

When I call " fading " martial immortalityy 
I mean, that every age and every year, 

And almost every day, in sad reality. 
Some sucking hero is compell'd to rear, 

Who, when we come to sum up the totality 
Of deeds to human happiness most dear, 

Turns oat to be a, butcher in great business, 
AfHictiog young folks with a sort of Oii»;ziiieaa« 



St76 DON JUAKi 



Medals, rank, ribands, lace, embroidery, acaiM, 
Are things immortal to immortal man. 

As purple to the Babylonian harlot : 
An uniform to boys is like a fan 

To women ; there is scarce a crimson varlet 
But deems himself the first in Glory's yan* 

But Glory 's glory ; and if you would find 

What that is — ask the pig who sees the wind ! 



At least he feds Uy and some say he «eei^ 
Because he runs before it like a pig ; 

Or, if that simple sentence should displease, 
Say, that lie scuds before it like a brig, 

A schooner, or — but it is time to ease 

This Canto, ere my Muse perceives fatigue. 

The next shall ring a peal tu shake all people, 

Like a bob-majur from a village steeple. 



LXXXVI. 

Hark ! through the silence of the cold, dull night, 
The hum of armies gathering rank on rank ! 

LfO ! dusky masses steal in dubious sight 
Along the leaguer'd wall and bristling bank 

Of the arm'd river, while with straggling light 

The stars peep through the vapours dim and dank, 

Which curl in curious wreaths : — how soon the smoke 

Of HcU shall pall them in a deeper cloak ! 



Lxxxvn. 

Here pause we for the present — as even then 
That awful pause, dividing life from death, 
Struck for an instant on the hearts of men, 

Thousands of whom were drawing their last breath ! 
A moment — and all will be life again ! 

The march ! the charge', the shouts of either faith • 
Hum I and Allah \ and — oi\e tooxwmvV trot^ — 
The death-cry drowning in iVie VwXVWa to%t* 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO TH8 EQHTH 



I. 

Oh blood and thunder ! and oh blood and ifi ounds ! 

These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem. 
Too gentle reader ! and most shocking sounds : 

And so they are ; yet thus is Glory's dream 
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds 

At present such things, since they are her theme. 
So be they her inspircrs ! Call them Mars, 
Bellona, what you will — they mean but wars. 



u. 

All was prepared — the fire, the sword, the men 
To wield them in their terrible array. 

The army, like a lion from his den, 

MarchM forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, 

A human Hydra, issuing from its fen 

To breathe destruction on its winding way, 

Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain. 

Immediately in others grew again. 



III. 

History can only take things in the gross ; 

But could we know them in detail, perchance 
In balancing the profit and the loss. 

War's merit it by no means might enhance. 
To waste so much gold for a little dross, 

As hath been done, mere conquest lo advoJiCA* 
The drying up a single tear has more 
Of honest fame, than shedding seaa o( got%. 



t78 DON JUAir. 



zv« 



And why? — because it brings self-approbation ; 

Whereas the other, after aU its ghirey 
Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation^ 

Which (it may be) has not much left to sparer 
A higher title, or a loftier station, 

Though they may make Corruption gape ex atars^ 
Yet, in the end, except in Freedom's battles, 
Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles. 



V. 

And such they are — and such they will be found » 

Not so Leonidas and Washington, 
Whose every battle-field is holy ground, 

Which breathes u^ nations saved, not worlds undone- 
How sweellv on the ear such echoes sound ! 

While the mere victor's may appal or stun 
The servile and the vain, such names will bo 
A watchword till the future shall be free. 



VI. 

The night was dark, and the thick mist allow'd 
Nought to lie seen save the artillery's flame, 

Which arch'd the horizon like a tiory cloud. 
And in the Danube's waters shone the same • 

A mirror'd hell ! the volleying roar, and loud 
Long booming of each peal on peal, o'ercame 

The ear far more than thunder ; for Heaven's flashes 

Sparc, or smite rarely — man's make millions ashes ! 



VII. 

The column order'd on the assault scarce pass'd 
Beyond the Russian batteries a few toises. 

When up the bristling Moslem rose at last, 

Answering the Christian thunders with like voices : 

Then one vast fire, air, earth, and stream embraced. 
While rockM as 't were bene^lVx Ihe mighty noises ; 

Which the whole rampart b\a2Jcd\vVwi'CA.TWSL,Hi\»fc\v 
TLo restless Tituu hiccups \n \vva ^n* 



eurroTiD. don jxtan* 970 

vni. 
And one enormous shout of ^ Allah !" rose 

In the same moment, loud as even the roar 
Of war's most mortal engines, to their foes 

Hurling defiance : city, stream, and shore 
Resounded '< Allah ! " and the clouds which close 

With thick'ning canopy the conflict o'er. 
Vibrate to the Eternal name. Hark ! through 
All sounds it pierceth, ^ Allah ! Allah ! Hu ! " * 

IX. 

The columns were in movement one and all, 
But of the portion which attack'd by water. 

Thicker than leaves the lives began to fall. 

Though led by Arseniew, that great son of slaughter, 

As brave as ever faced both bomb and ball. 

"Carnage" (so Wordsworth tells you) "is God's daugh- 

Ifhe speak truth, she is Christ's sister, and [ter:""f 

Just now behaved as in the Holy Land. 

X. 

The Prince de Ligne was wounded in the knee ; 

Count Chapeau-Bras. too, had a ball between 
His cap and head, which proves the head to be 

Aristocratic as was ever seen. 
Because it then received no injury 

More than the cap ; in fact, the ball could mean 
No harm unto a right legitimate head : 
" Ashes to ashes " — why not lead to lead ? 

XI. 

Also the General Markow, Brigadier, 

Insisting on removal oftJie prince 
Amidst some groaning thousands dying near, — 

All common fellows, who might writhe and wince, 
And shriek for water into a deaf ear, — 

The General Markow, who could thus evince 
His sympathy for rank, by the same token. 
To teach him greater, had his own leg broken. 

• * Allah ! ITii ! " is properly the war-cry of the Mussulmans, and tliey dweO 
•D the lost syllable, which gives it a very wild and peculiar effect. 

1 " But thy t moht drcndcd instrument 

In working out a pure intent, 
]r man array'd for mutual slaughter ; 
Vea, Carnage is thy ditutihter ! 

Words worth's Thanksf^xwu» O^. 

X To wit, the Dchy^s. This is perhaps as nreUy a TfteAxt^rc© ^ot n\\M^«t ^» ««• 
wag found out by Garter King at ArniH. — What vromd Vi^NeVsoetk wJA^^wl' 
6ve-ipoAen people (Uecovored such a lineago ? 



S80 ^ DOH JUJJf. 



Three hundred cannon threw up their emeticy 
And thirty thousand muskets flung tibeir pUli 

Like haily to make a hloody diuretic. 
Mortality ! thou hast thy monthly bills ; 

Thy plagues, thy famines, thy physicians, yet 
Like the death-watch, within our ears the ilb 

Past, present, and to come ; — but all may yield 

To the true portrait of one battle-field* 



zm. 

There the still varying pangs, which multiply 
Until their very number makes men hard 

By the infinities of agony, 

Which ineot the giize, whatever it may regard - 

The groan, the roll in Hust, the all-white eye 
Tiirn*d back within its socket, — these reward 

Your rank and tile by thousamls, while the rest 

May win, perhaps, a riband at the breast ! 



XIV. 



Yet I love glory ; — glory 's a great thing : — 
Think what it is to be in vour old ajje 

Maintain d at the expense of your good king : 
A moderate pension shakes full many a sage, 

And heroes are but made for bards to sing, 
Which is still better ; thus in verse to wage 

Your wars eternally, besides enjoying 

Half-pay for life, make mankind worth destrgying. 



XV. 

The troops, already disembark'd, push'd on 
To take a battery on the right ; the others, 

Who landed lower down, their landing done. 
Had set to work as briskly as their brothers : 

Being grenadiers, they mounted one by one, 
Chtsfrful as children cluuh ll\e. hrcasts of mothers 

O^er the entrenchment and \\\<i \>^Vvsa^<i, 
Quite orderly, as if upon parade. 



DON JUAH. W\ 



XVI. 



And this was admirable ; for so hot 
The fire was, that were red Vesuvius loaded, 

Besides its lava, with all sorts of shot 

And shells or hells, it could not more have goaded* 

Of officers a third fell on the spot, 

A thing which victory by no means boded 

To gentlemen engaged in the assault : 

Hounds, when the huntsman tumbles, are at &ult« 

xvn. 

• 

But here I leave the general concern. 

To track our hero on his path of fame : 
He must his laurels separately earn ; 

For fifly thousand heroes, name by name, 
Though all deserving equally to turn 

A couplet, or an elegy to claim, 
Would form a lengthy lexicon of glory. 
And, what is worse still, a much longer story : 

XV III. 

And therefore we must give the greater number 
To the Gazette — which doubtless fairly dealt 

By the deceased, who lie in famous slumber 
In ditches, fields, or wheresoe'er they felt 

Their clay for the last time their souls encumber ; — 
Thrice happy he whose name has been well spelt 

In the despatch : I knew a man whose loss 

Was printed Grovef although his name was Grose.* 

XIX. 

Juan and Johnson join'd a certain corps. 

And fought away with might and main, not knowing 

The way which they had never trod before. 

And still less guessing where they might be going ; 

But on they marcliM, dead bodies trampling o'er. 
Firing, and thrusting, slashing, sweating, glowing, 

But fighting thoughtlessly enough to win, 

To their two selves, one whole bright bulletin. 

• A fact : see tlie Waterloo Gazettes. I recollect remarkiw^ %X \Vv<4 >Atcv^ V> ^ 
firjend: — " There xnfame ! a man is tuUed, his name \ft Ot^v^e, ^tA >^^<i>5 \.tvxv\ 
it Grove. " / was at college with the deceased, w\\o wtja «. n^T"^ ««^\v^:^^ ^"o 

eJerer man, and his society in great reoucst Cot Vub vat, ^«Vv , wv^""*" VjV^asaw 

i boin." 



382 iK»r iVAXm 



Thus on they wallow'd in the bloody mire 

Of dead and dying thousands, — sometimes gaining 

A yard or two of ground, which brought them nigiier 
To some odd angle for which all were straining ; 

At other times, repulsed by the close fire, 

Which really pour'd as if all hell were raining 

Instead of heaven, they stumbled backwards o'er 

A wounded comrade^ sprawling in his gore. 



Though 't was Don Juan's first of fields, and though 

The nightly muster and the silent march 
In the chill dark, when courage does not glow 

So much as under a triumphal arch, * 
Perhaps might make him sliivor, yawn, or throw 

A glance on tlie dull clouds (as thick as starch, 
Which stillen'd heaven) as if he wish'd for day ; — 
Yet for all this he did not run away. 

XXII. 

Indeed he could not. But whcit if he had ? 

There have bean and arc heroes who begun 
With something not much better, or as bad : 

Frederic the Great from Molwitz deiffn'd to run 
For the first and last time ; tor, like a pad, 

Or hawk, or bride, most mortals alter one 
Warm bout are broken into their new tricks. 
And fight like fiends for pay or politics. 

xxin 

He was what Erin calls, in her sublime 
Old Erse or Irish, or it may be Punic ;— 

(The antiquarians who can settle time, 

Which settles all tiiings, Roman, Greek, or Runic, 

Swear that Put's language sprung from the same climo 
With Hannibal, and wears the Tvrian tunic 

Of Dido's alphabet ; and this is rational 

As any other notion, and nol Tia.lvoiia\y^ — ♦ 

• See gODeral Vahmoey ^ad Sii l«fJT«M» Yvmoa. 



CiMTOfBL DON JVJJX. 888 



But Juan was quite ** a broth of a boy," 
A thing of impulse and a child of song ; 

Now swimming in the sentiment of joy, 

Or the sensation (if that phrase seem wrong). 

And afterward, if he must needs destroy. 
In such good company as always throng 

To battles, sieges, and that kind of pleasure^ 

No less delighted to employ his leisure ; 



XXV. 



But always without malice : if he warr'd 

Or loved, it was with what we call " the best 

Intentions," which form all mankind's trump car^ 
To be produced when brought up to the test. . 

The statesman, hero, hiirlot, lawyer — wiird 
Otf each attack, when people are in qtiest 

Of their desi<rns, by siiyintr they meant well, 

'T is pity " that such meaning should pave hell." * 

XXVI. 

I almost lately have begun to doubt 

Whether hell's pavement — if it be so paved -^ 

Must not have latterly been quite worn out, 
Not by the numbers good intent hath saved. 

But by the mass who go below without 

Those ancient good intentions, which once shaved 

And smoothed the brimstone of that street of hell 

Which bears the greatest likeness to Pall Mall. 

XX VII. 

Juan, by some strange chance, which oft divides 
Warrior from warrior in their grim career, 

Like chastest wives from constant husbands' sidesi 
Just at the close of the first bridal year, 

By one of those odd turns of Fortune's tides, 
Was on a sudden rather puzzled here. 

When, after a good deal of heavy ftring, 

He found himself aJone, and friends telvrvn^. 

• 75W Pdnaguewe proverb mxyn that ** heU is ^ved "wVaJb. ^o^ isfiuBoSaooC* 



S84 BOH jUAxr. 



zzyni. 



I do n't know how the thing occarr'd^ it might 
Be that the greater part were kill'd or wounded^ 

And that the rest had faced unto the right 
About ; a circumstance which haa confounded 

Cesar himself, who in the very sight 

Of his whole army, which so much abounded 

In courage, was obliged to snatch a shield. 

And rally back his Romans to the field. 






Juan, who had no shield to snatch, and was 

No Cesar, but a fine young lad, who fought 
'He knew not why, arriving at this pass, 
8toppM for a minute, as perhaps he ought 

For a much longer time ; then, like an ass — 

(Start not, kind reader, since great Homer thought 

This simile enough tor Ajax, Juan 

Perhaps may find it better than a new one) ; — 



XXX. 

Tlien, like an ass, he went upon his way, 

And, what was stranger, never look'd behind ; 

But seeing, Hashing torwanl, like the day 
Over the hills, a tire enough to hlind 

Those who dislike to look upon a fray, 
He stumbled on, to trv if he could find 

A path, to add his own slight arm and tbrces 

To corps, the greater part of which were corses. 



XXXI. 

Perceiving then no more the commandant 

Of his own corps, nor oven the corps, which had 
Quite disappoar'd — tht* gods know how ! (I can't 

Account tor everv thinii which mav look bad 
In history ; but we at least may grant 

It was not marvcUous l\\at a mere lad, 
in search of glory, shou\d\ooW oii\«ifeT^> 
ATor care a pinch of snuff about \k\a c^t^ •^^— 



QiMTOTttL DON JUAN* 



Pcrceivinff nor commander nor commanded, 
And leu at large, like a young heir, to make 

His way to — where he knew not — single handed ; 
As travellers follow over bog and brake 

An ** ignis fatuus ; " or as sailors stranded 
Unto the nearest hut themselves betake ; 

So Juan, following honour and his nose, 

RushM where the thickest fire announced most foes* 

xxxni* 

He knew not where he was, nor greatly cared, 
For he was dizzy, busy, and his veins 

Fill'd as with lightning — for his spirit shared 
The hour, as is the case with livelv brains ; 

And where the hottest fire was seen and heard, 
And tl»e loud cannon peal'd his hoarsest strains, 

He rush'd, while earth and air were sadly shaken 

By thy humane discovery, friar Bacon ! * 

XXXIV. 

And as he rush'd along, it came to pass he 
Fell in with what was late the second column. 

Under the orders of the General Lascy, 
But now reduced, as is a bulky volume. 

Into an elegant extract (much less massy) 
Of heroism, and took his place with solemn 

Air 'midst the rest, who kept their valiant faceSy 

And levell'd weapons still against the glacis* 

XXXV. 

Just at this crisis up came Johnson too. 

Who had " retreated," as the phrase is, when 

Men run away much rather than go through 
Destruction's jaws into the devil's den ; 

But Johnson was a clever fellow, who 

Knew when and how ** to cut and come again, 

And never ran away, except when running 

Was nothing but a valorous kind oC c\it\t\\t\^. 

^ Gfuqwmfer ii nid to have iMea ^&aoo^ei«d^l 1(31^ traa. 



It 



^ml DOH iVAXt. 



And so, when all his corps were dead or 

Except Don Juan, a mere novice, whose 
More virgin valour never dreamt of flying 

From ignorance of danger, which indues 
Its votaries, like innocence relying 

On its own strength, with careless nerves and thews^ -^ 
Johnson retired a little, just to rally 
Those who catch cold in ^ shadows of Death's valhj.** 



And there, a little sheltered from the riiot. 

Which rain'd from bastion, battery, parapet, 
Rampart, wall, casement, house — for there was not 

Id this extensive city, sore beset 
By Christian soldiery, a sin^jle spot 

Which did not combat like tlie devil, as yet,— 
He found a number of Chasseurs, all scatter'd 
By the resistance of the chase they batter'd. 



xxxvui. 

And these he call'd on ; and, what 's strange, they came 

Unto his call, unlike ^ the spirits trom 
The vasty deep," to whom you may exclaim, 

Says Hotspur, long ere tliey will leave their home* 
Their reasons were uncertainty, or shame 

At shrinking from a bullet or a bomb. 
And that odd impulse, which, in wars or creeds, 
Makes men, like cattle, follow* him who leads. 



XXXIX, 

By Jove ! he was a noble fellow, Johnson, 

And though his name, than Ajax or Achilles, 
^Sounds less harmonious, underneath the sim soon 
We shall not see his likeness : he could kill his 
Man quite as quietly as blows the monsoon 

Her steady breath (which ^ome months the same t^ is) t 
Seldom he varied feature, hue, ox toabc^^ 
And could be very busy wilYiout \»]a\\«\ 



QftNTOTBL 



DON JUAN. S67 



XL. 



Aod therefore, when he ran away, he did so 
Upon reflection, knowing that behind 

He would find others who would fain be rid so 
Of idle apprehensions, which like wind 

Trouble heroic stomachs. Though their lids so 
Ofl are soon closed, all heroes are not blindy 

But when they light upon immediate death, 

Retire a little, merely to take breath. 



XLI. 



But Johnson only ran off, to return 
With many other warriors, as we said. 

Unto that rather somewhat misty bourn. 
Which Hamlet tells us is a pass of dread. 

To Jack, howe'er, this gave but slight concern : 
His soul (like galvanism upon the dead) 

Acted upon the living as on wire, 

And led them back into the heaviest fire. 



XLII. 

Egad ! thoy found the second time what they 
The first time thought quite terrible enough 

To fly from, malgr6 all which people say 
Of glory, and all that immortal stuff 

Which fills a regiment (besides their pay. 

That daily shilling which makes warriors toUgh) — 

Tliey found on their return the self-same welcome, 

Which made some thitik, and others know, a hell come* 



XLIII. 

Thoy fell as thick as harvests beneath hail. 
Grass before scythes, or corn below the sickle^ 

Proving that trite old truth, that life 's as frail 
As any other boon for which men stickle. 

The Turkish batteries thrash'd them like a flail 
Or a good boxer, into a sad pickVo 

Putting the very bravest, who were knocVd 
Upon the head, before their guDs were cocVd* 



DON JUAlf* €UnO 



XLIT. 



The Turks behind the traverses and flanks 
Of the next bastion, fired away like devil% 

And swept, as gales sweep foam away, whole ranks : 
However, Heaven knows how, the Fate who levels 

Towns, nations, worids, in her revolving pranks^ 
So order'd it, amidst these sulphury revels^ 

That Johnson and some few who had not scamper'df 

Reach'd the interior talus of the rampart. 



ZLV. 

First one or two, then five, six, and a dozen. 
Came mounting quickly up, for it was now 

All neck or nothing, as, like pitch or rosin, 

Flame was shower'd forth above, as well 's bdow* 

So that you scarce could say who best had chosen. 
The gentlemen that were the first to show 

Their martial faces on the parapet. 

Or those who thought it brave to wait as yet. 

XLVI. 

But those who scaled, found out that their advance 
Was favoured bv an accident or blunder : 

The Greek or Turkish Cohorn's ignorance 
Had paliisadoM in a way you 'd wonder 

To see in torts of Netherlands or France — 

(Thougii these to our Gibraltar must knock under) 

Right in the middle of the parapet 

Just named, these palisades were primly set : 

XLvn. 

So that on either side some nine or ten 

Paces were left, whereon you could contrive 

To march ; a great convenience to our men, 
At least to all those who were left alive, 

Who thus could form a line and ficj^ht again : 
And that which farther aided them to strive 

Was, that they could kick down the palisades, 

Which scarcely rose much higher than grass blades ^ 

• Thej wen but iwo iwi Yiiffti •boN% v\m&\*nA. 



CASTO TDl. 



DON JUAN. 98d 



ZLVin. 

Among the first, — I will not say the^r«^ 
For such precedence upon such occasions 

Will oftentimes make deadly quarrels burst 
Out between friends as well as allied nations : 

The Briton must be bold who really durst 
Put to such trial John Bull's partial patience. 

As say that Wellington at Waterloo 

Was beaten, — though the Prussians say so too ; 



ZLIX. 

And that if Bluchcr, Bulow, Gncisenau, 

And God knows who besides in " au" and ** ou," 

Had not come up in time to cast an awe 
Into the hearts of those who fought till now 

As tigers combat with an empty craw, 

The Duke of Wellington had ceased to show 

His orders, also to receive his pensions, 

Wluch are the heaviest that our history mentions. 



L. 

But never mind ; — " God save the king ! " and kings ' 
For if Aa do n't, I doubt if men will longer — 

I think I hear a little bird, who sings 

The people by and by will be tiie stronger : 

The veriest jade will wince whose harness wrings 
So much into the raw as quite to wrong her 

Beyond the rules of posting, — and the mob 

At last fall sick of imitating Job. 



LI. 

At first it grumbles, then it swears, and then, 

Like David, flings smooth pebbles 'gainst a giant ; 
At last it takes to weapons such as men 

Snatch when despair makes human hearts less ^Uaxl^x 
Then comes " the tug of war ; " — 't wVW co\u^ ^^^vel, 

I rather doubt ; and I would fain say " fk^ oil'VJ* 
Jfl had not perceived that revolution 
^/one can nave the earth from hell's poWutvou. 



DON JUAN* OyRSfH 



UI* 



But to contunie : — I say not the first, 
But of the first, our little friend Don Juan 

Walk'd o'er the walls of Ismail, as if nursed 
Amidst such scenes — though this was quite a new ona 

To him, and I should hope to mtuU The thirst 

Of glorv, which so pierces through and through ODe» 

Pervaded him — although a generous creature. 

As warm in heart as feminine in feature. 



IIU. 

And here he was — who upon woman's breast. 
Even from a child, felt like a child ; howe'er 
The man in all the rest might be confess'd. 

To him it was Elysium to be there ; 
And he could even withstand that awkward test 

Which Rousseau points out to the dubious fair, 
" Observe your lover when he leaves your arms ; '* 
But Juan never left them, wliile they 'd charms, 



nv. 

Unless compcll'd by fate, or wave, or wind, 
Or near relations, who are much the same. 

But here he was ! — where each tie that can bind 
Humanity must yield to steel and tlaine : 

And he whose verv body was all mind, 

Flung here by fate or circuni:>tance, which tame 

The loiUest, hurried by the time and place, 

Dash'd on like a spurr'd blood-horse in a race. 



LV. 

So was his blood stirrM while he found resistance^ 

As is the hunter's at the five-bar gate. 
Or double post and rail, where the existence 

Of Britain's youth depends upon their weight. 
The lightest being the safest : at a distance 

He hated cruelty, as all men hate 
Blood, until heated — and even WxenVxvB oNm 
At timea would curdle o'er some VveaLV>f %tawu 



r,AMTO TUL 



DON JUAN. 89l 



LVI. 



The General Lascy, who had been hard press'dy 

Seeing arrive an aid so opportune 
As were some hundred youngsters all abreast, 

Who came as if just dropp'd down from the moony 
To Juan, who was nearest him, address'd 

His thanks, and hopes to take the city soon, 
Not reckoning him to be a '' base Bczonian/' 
(As Pistol calb it) but a young Livonian. 



Lvn. 

Juan, to whom he spoke in German, knew 
As much of German as of Sancrit, and 

In answer made an inclination to 

The general who held him in command; 

For seeing one with ribands, black and blue, 
Stars, medals, and a bloody sword in hand, 

Addressing him in tones which seem'd to thank. 

He recognised an officer of rank. 



Lvm. 

Short speeches pass between two men who speak 
No common language ; and besides, in time 

Of war and taking towns, when many a sliriek 
Rings o'er the dialogue, and many a crime 

Is perpetrated ere a word can break 

Upon the ear, and sounds of horror cliime 

In like church-bells, with sigh, howl, groan, yell, prayeff 

There cannot be much conversation there. 



LIX. 

And therefore all we have related in 

Two long octaves, pass'd in a little minute ; 

But in the same small minute, every sin 
Contrived to get itself comprised within it. 

The very cannon, deafened by the din, 

Grew dumb, for you might almost Vieat ^ YviiTkAX^ 

As soon as tlmader, 'midst the generaX novae 
Of human nature's agoDising voice \ 




TIm town «u enlsr'd. Oh oleniitjr I — 

"God made tba coanbr, uid tnui nwda fta tonC* 

So Cowperam — uidlfa^^toba '* 

Of hi* (^uon, wbra I Me cagt down 

Roowt Babylon, T3rTei, Csrtfaage^ Ninarcli, 
All walk mm know, and many nevor Imowa j ' 

And pondmug on the prea tin t and tho past. 

To deem tha wooda thaD tw our home at laitt— 



Of an mm, aaving ByUa the man-alayer, 

Who paana for in life and death tboA hie^, 
Of the ^^ namee which in our facta atar^ 

The General Boon, back- woodsman of Kentnely, 
Was happiest amongst mortals any where ; 

For killing nothing but a bear or buck, he 
Enjoy'd the lonely, vigorous, harmless daya 
Of his old age in wilds of deepest maze. 



Crime came not near him — she is not the child 
Of Bohtude; Health siirank not from him— fer 

Her home is in the rarely-trodden wild. 

Where if men seek her not, and death be more 

l^icir choice than life, forgive them, as beguiled 
By habit to what their own hearts abhor — 

In cities caged. The present case in point I 

Cite is, that Boon Ured hunting up to ninety ; 



And what *8 etill stranger, left behind a name 
For which men vainly decimate the throng, 
Not only famous, but of that good fame. 

Without which glory 's but a tavern song— 
Simple, serene, the antipodes of shame, 

Which hate nor envy e'er could tinge with wrong; 
An active hermit, even in age Vhft c\iM 
Of Nature, or the man of Rosk luu 'wM. 



CMMTOWOL DON JVAlt* 208 



LXIV. 

T b true he shrank from men even of his nation, 
When they built up unto his darling trees, — 

He moved some hundred miles off, for a station 
Where there were fewer houi^ and more ease; 

The inconvenience of civilization 

Is, that you neither can be pleased nor please ; 

But where he met the individual man, 

He show'd himself as kind as mortal can. 



LXV* 

He was not all alone : around him grew 
A sylvan tribe of children of the chase, 

Whose young, unwaken'd world was ever new, 
Nor sword nor sorrow yet liad left a trace 

On her unwrinkled brow, nor could you view 
A frown on Nature's or on human face ; — 

The free-born forest found and kept them free, 

And fresh as is a torrent or a tree. 



LXVI. 

And taU, and strong, and swift of foot were they, 
Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions. 

Because their thoughts had never been the prey 

Of care or gain : the green woods were their portions 

No sinking spirits told them they grew gray, 
No fashion made them apes of her distortions ; 

Simple they were, not savage ; and their rifles, 

Though very true, were not yet used for trifles. 



Lxvn. 

Motion was in their day's, rest in their sluml)ers, 
And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil ; 

Nor yet too many nor too few their numl>ers ; 
Corruption could not make their hearts her soil ; 

The lust which stings, the splendour which encumbeni« 
With the free foresters divide no o^ovV \ 

Serene, not sulJen, were the solitudes 
Of this uDsighing people of the wooda. 



M4 wm lUAKm 



/. 



So much ht Nature : — by way of fario^. 

Now bade to tigr gimt Joy*, CSviS^dklttl 
And tbe aveel conseqaaioe of hige aodotyy 

Wary pertilence^ fbe despot^ doobtioiy \ ^ 

The kingly a coo f ge, the liurt of notoriet^i 

The miUioiu dain by aoUieri for tbieir imtioiy 
The aoenea like Cathmne'a boudoir at thiMaoQi% i 
With Imail'a stofin to soffam it the more. 



V 



if 



The town waa enteiM : firrt one odhmm nada ^ ' 
Its sanguinary way good — tiien another ; 

The reekinff bayonet and the flashing blade 

ClashM ^inst the sdmitar, and babe and mother 

With distant shrieks were heard Heaven to upbraid : -^ . 
Still closer sulphury clouds began to smother 

The breath of mom and man, where, foot by foot, 

The madden'd Turks their city still dispute. 



LXX. 

Koutousow, he who afterward beat back 

(With some assistance from the frost and snow) 

Napoleon on his bold and bloody track, 

It happen'd was himself beat back just now : 

He was a jolly fellow, and could crack 
His jest alike in face of friend or foe, 

Though life, and death, and victory were at stake ; 

But here it seem'd his jokes had ceased to take : 



LXXI. 

For having thrown himself mto a ditch, 
Follow'd in haste by various grenadiers. 

Whose blood the puddle greatly did enrich, 
He dimb'd to where the parapet appears ; 

But there his project reach'd its utmost pitch*- 
('Mongst other deaths the General Ribaupiem^ 

Was much regretted), for the )ilo»\eiii tnen 
Threw tbmn all down into the £UAi ^^^xsu 



eunoTiB. DOS juan. 205 



LXZU. 

And had it not been for some stray troops landing 
They knew not where, being carried by the stream 

To some spot, where they lost their understanding, 
And wanderM up and down as in a dream, 

Until they reach'd, as daybreak was expanding, 
That which a portal to their eyes did seem, — 

The great and gay Koutousow might have lain 

Where three parts of his column yet remain. 



LXXIU. 

And scrambling round the rampart, these same troopi^ 

After the taking of the " Cavalier," 
Just as Koutousow 's most " forlorn " of " hopes '* 

Took, like chameleons, some slight tinge of fear, 
Open'd the gate call'd ** Kilia," to the groups 

Of baffled heroes, who stood shyly near, 
Sliding knee-deep in lately-frozen mud, 
Now thaw'd into a marsh of human blood. 



LXXIV. 

The Kozacks, or, if so you please, Cossacques — 
(I do n't much pique myself upon orthography, 

So that I do not grossly err in facts, 

Statistics, tactics, politics, and geography) — 

Having been used to serve on horses' backs, 
And no great dilettanti in topography 

Of fortresses, but fighting where it pleases 

Their chiefs to order, — were all cut to pieces. 



LXXV. 

Their column, though the Turkish batteries thunderM 
Upon them, ne'crthelcss had reach'd the rampart, 

And naturally thought they could have plunder'd 
The city, without being farther hamp(ir'd ; 

But as it happens to brave men, they blundet'd^ 
The Turks at ^rst pretended to have ac^Tv\^^t*^, 

Only to draw them 'twixt two baaVion cottv^ts. 
From whence they sallied on those CViraVASwTi ^cot\i«tu% 






Then bmng taken bj the tail — a taldiig 
Fatal to bishops as to soldiera — these 

Cossacques were all cut off as day was braakiofp 
And found their lives were let at a short lease « 

But perishM without shivering or shaking. 
Leaving as ladders their heap'd carcasses. 

O'er which Lieutenant- Colonel Yesouskoi 

March'd with the brave battalion of Pobazki : «-* 



This valiant man kill'd all the TNirks he met, 
But could not eat them, being in his turn 

Slain by some Mussulmans, who would not yet. 
Without resistance, see their citv burn. 

The walls were won, but 't was an even bet 

Which of the armies would have cause to mourn ; 

T was blow for blow, disputing inch by inch, 

For one would not retreat, nor t' other flinch. 



LXXVIII. 

Another column also suffer'd much : — 

And here we mav remark with the historian. 

You should but give few cartridges to such 

Troops as arc meant to marcli with greatest glory on : 

When matters must be carried by the touch 

Of the bright bayonet, and they all should hurry on. 

They sometimes, with a hankering for existence, 

Keep merely firing at a foolish distance. 



LXXIX. 

A junction of the General Mcknop's men 

(Without the General, who had fallen some time 
Before, being badly seconded just then) 

Was made at length with those who dared to climb 
The death-disgorging rampart once again ; 

And though the TurWs reaialaiiQft viqa wiVj^sim^ 
Tbey took the bastion, whicVi ^e ^exaakisx 
Defended at a price extremely deat* 



DON JUAN. tld? 



LXZX. 



Juan and Johnson, and some volunteers 

Among the foremost, offer'd him good quarter, 

A word which little suits with Seraskiers, 
Or at least suited not this valiant Tartar* 

He died, deserving well his country's tears, 
A savage sort of military martyr. 

An English naval officer, who wish'd 

To make him prisoner, was also dish'd : 

LXXXI. 

For all the answer to his proposition 

Was from a pistol-shot that laid him dead ; 

On which the rest, without more intermission, 
Began to lay about with steel and lead — 

The pious metals most in requisition 
On such occasions : not a single head 

Was spared; — three thousand Moslems perish'd here. 

And sixteen bayonets pierced the Seraskier. 



LXXXII. 

The city 's taken — only part by part — 

And Death is drunk with gore : there 's not a street 

Where fights not to the last some desperate heart 
For those for whom it soon shall cease to beat. 

Here War forgot his own destructive art 
In more destroying Nature ; and the heat 

Of carnage, like the Nile's sun-sodden slime. 

Engendered monstrous shapes of every crime* 



Lxxxin. 

A Russian officer, in martial tread 

Over a heap of bodies, felt his heel 
Seized fast, as if *t were by the serpent's head 

Whose fangs Eve taught her human seed to feel : 
In vain he kick'd, and swore, and writhed, and bled. 

And howPd for help as wolves do for «Ltne»\ — 
The teeth still kept their gratifying VvoVd, 
Ab do the subtle snakes described of o\d. 



988 mnr jva& 



uav 




A dying Modem, who bad fidt Ilia fiMit , ; '* 

Of a foe o'er him, anateh'd at it* and hit . . / 

The Tery tendon which is moat aoate — 
(That which some ancient Miue or modem wit . ^^ 

Named after thee, Achilles) and quite throng It 
He made the teeth meet, nor ielinquiah*d it 

Even with hia life — for (bat they lie) 't is 

To the live kg still clung the severed nead. 



J' 



However this may be, t is pretty sura w 

The Russian officer for life was lamed. 
For the Turk's teeth stuck faster than a skewsi^ , 

And left him 'midst the invalid»and maim'd: 
The regimental surgeon could not cure 

His patient, and perliaps was to be blamed 
More than the head of the inveterate foe, 
Which was cut off, and scarce even then let go* 



LXXXVI. 

But then the fact 's a fact — and 't is the part 
Of a true poet to escape from fiction 

WheneVr he can ; for there is little art 

In leaving verse more free from the restriction 

Of truth than prose, unless to suit the mart 
For what is sometimes call'd poetic diction, 

And that outrageous appetite for lies 

Which Satan angles with for souls, like flies. 



LZXXVU* 

The city 's taken, but not render'd ! — No ! 

There 's not a Moslem that hath yielded swoidl 
The blood may gush out, as the Danube's flow 

Rolls by the city wall ; but deed nor word 
Acknowledge aught of dread of death or foe : 

In vain the yell of victory is roor'd 
By the advancing Muscovite — the groan 
Of the last foe is echoed by hia own. 



CMMTOUIL DON JUAN. 390 



Lxxxvni* 

The bayonet pierces and the sabre cleaves, 
And human lives are lavish'd every where. 

As the year closing whirls the scarlet leaves 
When the stripped forest bows to the bleak air, 

And groans ; and thus the peopled city grieves. 
Shorn of its best and loveliest, and left bare ; 

But still it falls with vast and awful splinters, 

As oaks blown down with all their thousand wintenb 



LXXXIX. 

It is an awful topic — but 't is not 
My cue for any time to be terrific : 

For checker'd as is seen our human lot 

With good, and bad, and worse, alike prolific 

Of melancholy merriment, to quote 

Too much of one sort would be soporific ; 

Without, or with, offence to friends or foes, — 

I sketch your world exactly as it goes. 



xc. 



And one good action in the midst of crimes 
Is " quite refreshing," in the afiected phrase 

Of these ambrosial, Pharisaic times, 

With all their pretty milk-and-water ways, 

And may serve therefore to bedew these rhymes, 
A little scorch'd at present with the blaze 

Of conquest and its consequences, which 

Make epic poesy so rare and rich. 



xci. 

Upon a taken bastion, where there lay 

Thousands of slaughter'd men, a yet warm group 
Of murder'd women, who had found their way 

To this vain refuge, made the good heart droop 
And shudder ; — while, as beautiful as May, 

A female child often years tried to stoop 
And hide her little palpitating breast 
Amidst the bodies luU'd in bloodv rest. 



tM MW JUJlB. 



Two Tilbiioai Co — e qiw panaod tkm didd 
With flMhing e¥«i and itosmmm: ■nftoVd vitil 

The rodert bnita tlwt rouM Siberia's wild> 
Has feeliiip pare and poliih'd is a jaB»— it. 

Tbe bear is ciTiliaedt Hie wolf is mild ; 

And whom fiur this at last must we oondemnt /:• 

Thdir natuiesT or tiieir sovereigii8».wbo..eBploj . A 

AH arts to teach their sobjeets to destrort 



Their sabres glitter'd o'er her KtOe head, 

Whence her fiiir hair rose twining witfi afijglil^ 
Her hidden face was planged amidst the dead : 

When Juan caught a glimpse of this sad sight, 
I shall not say exactly what he said^ 

Because it might not solace " ears polite ; " 
But what he did, was to lay on their backs, 
The readiest way of reasoning with Cossacques. 



xciv. 

One's hip he slash'd, and split the other's shoulder^ 
And drove them with their brutal veils to seek 

If there might be cliirurgcons who could solder 
The wounds they richly merited, and shriek 

Their baffled rage and pain ; while waxing colder 
As he turn'd o'er each pale and gory check, 

Don Juan raised his little captive from 

The heap a moment more had made her tomb. 



xcv. 

And she was chill as they, and on her face 

A slender streak of blood announced how near 
Her fate had been to that of all her race ; 

For the same blow which laid her mother here 
Had scarr'd her brow, and led its crimson trace 
As the last link wVucVi a& aVie ViaA V»\4 ^rax \ 
JBut else unhurt, she opened Yiiet Ut^ e^«A« 
And gazed on Juan with a w\\& wkr^ira^ 



^^■fOfUL 



DON JUAN. Ml 



XCVI, 



just at this instant, while their eyes were fix'd 
, Upon each other, with dilated glance, 

^ In Juan's look, pain, pleasure, hope, fear, mix'd 
\ With joy to save, and dread of some mischance 

\ tJnto his prot6g6e ; while hers, transfixM 
\ With infant terrors, glared as from a trance, 
A pure, transparent, pale, yet radiant face, 
\ Like to a lighted alabaster vase ; — 



A 



«. 



XCVII, 

Up came John Johnson (I will not say ^^Jacky^ 
For that were vulgar, cold, and common-place 

On great occasions, such as an attack 

On cities, as liath been the present case) : 

Up Johnson came, with hundreds at his back. 
Exclaiming : — ** Juan ! Juan ! On, boy ! brace 

Your arm, and 1 '11 bet Moscow to a dollar 

That you and I will win St. George's collar.* 

xcvin. 

" The Seraskier is knock'd upon the head. 
But the stone bastion still remains, wherein 

The old Pacha sits among some hundreds dead. 
Smoking his pipe quite calmly 'midst the din 

Of our artillery and his own : 't is said 
Our kill'd, already piled up to the chin, 

Lie round the battery ; but still it batters, 

And grape in volleys, like a vineyards, scatters, 

XCDC. 

" Then up with me ! " — But Juan answer'd, ** Look 
Upon this child — I saved her — must not leave 

Her life to chance ; but point me out some nook 
Of safety, where she less may shrink and grieve. 

And I am with you." — Whereon Johnson took [sleeve 
A glance around — and shrugg'd — and twitch'd hia 

And black silk neckcloth — and replied, " You 're ri^ht \ 

Poor thing ! what 's to be done 1 I 'm puT^e^ c\a\\fe? 

" A RoMiaQ military oidn. 




8ud Inn — " Whafaoerer ia to Im 
Dona, I II not quit bar till die aaem aaeoi* 

Of iHoaant life a good deal mora tiian wa.***— 
Qnoth Jobnaoa — "ilMlAer win IqintatMni 

Bat at the leaat jnmi ma; die i^rioualy." — 
Juan levied— ** At loaat I will andun 

Wfaale'er u to be boriM — but not ranga 

Thii ehildf who "m panntlei^ and tfaar^iffa nu 



JohnaoD aaid — ** Jnan, wo **• no tima to loaa ; 

Tbe child 'b a pretty child — a rary fiMf— 
I never saw Buch eyes — but haik ! now chooea 

Between your fame and feelings, pride and pity; ' 
Hark ! how the roar increases ! — no excuse 

Will serve when there is plunder in a city ;^ 
I should be loath lo march without you, but. 
By God ! we '11 be too late for the first cuL" 



But Juan was imtnoveable ; until 

Johnson, who really loved him in his way, 

I^ck'd out amongst his followers with some skiQ 
Such na he thought the least given up to prey ; 

And swearing if the infant came to ill 

That they should nil be shot on the next day j 

But if she were delivcr'd safe and sound, 

Tbey should at least have fifty rubles rouad, 



And all allowances besides of plunder 

In fair proportion with their comrades; — then 
Juan consented lo march on through thunder, 

Which thinn'd at every step their ranks of moBt 
And yet tbe rest rush'd eagerly — no wonder, 
for (bey were heated by the ho^ of eain, 
A thing which happens every wWm ewfci 4kj — 
No hero Inuteth wholly to \u\C-V«7- 



^IITOTIII. 



DON JU^N. 903 



CIV. 



And such is victory, and such is man ! 

At least nine tenths of what we call so ; — * God 
May have another name for half we scan 

As human beings, or his ways are odd. 
But to our subject : a brave Tartar klian — 

Or " sultctn,*^ as the author (to whose nod 
In prose I bend my humble verse) doth call 
This chieftain — somehow would not yield at all : 



cv. 

But flank'd hy Jive brave sons (such is polygamy, 
That she spawns warriors by the score, where none 

Are prosecuted for that false crime bigamy), 
lie never would believe the city won 

While courage clung but to a single twig. — Am I 
Describing Priuni's, Peleus', or Jove's son ? 

Neither-^ but a good, plain, old, temperate man^ 

Who fought with his five children in the van. 



cvi. 

To take him was the point. The truly brave, 
When they behold the brave oppress'd with odd% 

Are touch 'd with a desire to shield and save ; — 
A mixture of wild beasts and demi-jjods 

Are they — now furious as the sweeping wave. 
Now moved with pity : even as sometimes nodi 

The rugged tree unto the summer wind. 

Compassion breathes along the savage mind. 

cvn. 

But he would not be taken, and replied 

To all the propositions of surrender 
By mowing Christians down on every side, 

As obstinate as Swedish Charles at Bender. 
His five brave boys no less the foe defied ; 

Whereon the Russian pathos grew \e8a loiv^t^ 
Aa being a virtue^ like terrestrial patience. 
Apt to wear out on trifling provocalionB. 



SM B«i 9VMM. 



And apite of Johiwoii and otJtmni vlio 
EjtpMdedall their Etstem piiruaologf 

In begging him, for Ood's nke, just to Sow 
So much ktfB fight as miffht form an apology 

For ikem in saving snch a desperate foe- 
He hewM away, like doctors of theoto^ 

When they dinate with sceptics ; and with cmaa 

Struck at his friends^ as babies beat their 



Nay, he had wounded, though but slightly, bodi 

Juan and Johnson ; wheraopon they foU^ 
The first with sighs, the second with an oath. 

Upon his angry sultanship, pell-mell, 
And all around were grown exceeding wroth 

At such a pertinacious infidel, 
And pour'd upon him and his sons like rain. 
Which they resisted like a sandy plain 



cz. 

lliat drinks and still is dry. At last they perish'd •— 
His second son was levell'd by a shot ; 

His third was sabred ; and the fourth, most cherishM 
Of ail the five, on bayonets met his lot ; 

The fifth, who, by a Cliristian mother nourish'd. 
Had been neglected, ill-use<l, and what not. 

Because deform'd, yet died all game and bottom. 

To save a sire who blush'd that he begot him. 



CXI. 

The eldest was a true and tameless Tartar, 

As great a scomer of the Nazarene 
As ever Mahomet pick'd out for a mart3rr, 

Who only saw the black-eyed girls in green. 
Who make the beds of those who won't take quarter 

On earth, in Faradise ; and when once seen, 
Those houris, like all other pretty creatures. 
Do just whate'er tiiey please, by dint of features. 



DON JVAK. M^ 



cxn. 



And what they pleased to do with the young khan 
In heaven I know not, nor pretend to guess ; 

But doubtless they prefer a fine young man 
To tough old heroes, and can do no less ; 

And that 's the cause no doubt why, if we scan 
A field of battle's ghastly wilderness. 

For one rough, weather-beaten, veteran body. 

You '11 find ten thousand handsome coxcombs bloody 



cxin. 

Tour houris also have a natural pleasure 
In lopping off your lately married men, 

Before the bridal hours have danced their measure. 
And the sad, second moon grows dim again, « 

Or dull repentance hath had dreary leisure 
To wish him back a bachelor now and then. 

And thus your houri (it may be) disputes 

Of these brief blossoms the immediate fruits. 



CXIV. 

Thus the young khan, with houris in his sight. 

Thought not upon the charms of four young brides, 

But bravely rush'd on his first heavenlv night. 
In short, howe'er our better faith derides. 

These black-eyed virgins make the Moslems fight. 
As though there were one lieaven and none besides* 

Whereas, if all be true we hear of heaven 

And hell, there must at least be six or seven. 



cxv. 

So fully flash'd the phantom on his eyes. 
Thai when the very lance was in his heart. 

He shouted " Allah ! " and saw Paradise 
With all its veil of mystery drawn apart, 

And bright eternity without disguise 

On his soul, like a ceaseless sunrise, dart: — 

With prophets, houris, angels, saints, descried 

In one voluptuous blaze, — and then Vv^ di^ 



SM w^m lum 



Bat with a heavenlj iqitoni o« bk fiM%- .M 

The good old khaat who Ioii||^ had opfpd if^m$ 

Hoari% or aught ezo^ his flond laoo 

Who glow uko oedan round him g^oriooi^.-* 

When he behdd his latest hero ffnoa 

The eartli, which he became uke a fiD*d tie% 

Pauaed for a momeiit firom the fight^ and cast 

A jHance on that dain eoiia hia fint and lait» 



The eoldient who beheld him drop hia poiatp 
Stopp'd as if once more willing to o one eda 
Quartery in case he bade them not ^aroyntl" 

As he before had done. He did not heed 
Their pause nor signs : his heart was out of joints 

And shook (till now unshaken) like a reed. 
As he lookM down upon his children gone, 
And felt — though done with life — he was alone. 

cxvui. 

But 't was a transient tremor : — with a spring 
Upon the Russian steel his breast he flung, 

As carelessly as hurls the moth her wing 

Against the light wherein she dies : he clung 

Closer, that all the deadlier they might wring. 
Unto the bayonets which had pierced his young ; 

And throwing back a dim look on his sons, 

In one wide wound pour'd forth his soul at once. 



cziz. 

'T is strange enough — the rough, tough soldiers, who 
Spared neither sex nor age in their career 

Of carnage, when this old man was pierced through. 
And lay before them with his children near, 

Touch 'd by the heroism of him they slew. 
Were melted for a moment ; though no tear 

Flow'd firom their Uoodshot eyes, all red with strife^ 

Tbey honour'd such determined scorn of life. 



YBL DON JUAN. 



But the stone bastion still kept up its fire, 
Where the chief pacha cahnly held his post : 

Some twenty times he made the Russ retire. 
And baffled the assaults of all their host ; 

At length he condescended to inquire 
If yet the city's rest were won or lost ; 

And being told the latter, sent a bey 

To answer Ribas' summons to give way. 



CXXI. 

In the mean time, cross-legg'd, with great sang-froid, 
Among the scorching ruins he sat smoking 

Tobacco on a little carpet; — Troy 

Saw nothing like the scene around ; — yet looking 

With martial stoicism, nought seem'd to annoy 
II is stern philosophy ; but gently stroking 

His heard, he pufTd his pipe's ambrosial gales. 

As if he had three lives, as well as tails. 



cxxn. 

The town was taken — whether he might yield 
Himself or bastion, little mattered now : 

His stubborn valour was no future shield. 
Ismail 's no more ! The crescent's silver bow 

Sunk, and the crimson cross glared o'er the field, 
But red with no redeeming gore : the glow 

Of burning streets, like moonlight on the water. 

Was imaged back in blood, the sea of slaughter* 



cxxin. 

All that the mind would shrink from of excesses; 

All that the body perpetrates of bad ; 
All that we read, hear, dream, of man's distresses" 

All that the devil would do if run stark mad • 
All that defies the worst which pen expresses ; 

All by which hell is peopled, or as sad 
As hell — mere mortals who their power abuse — 
Was hero (as heretofore and Bince") \q\. \ocrai&« 




If here utddMra BOOM truMUBltnitarf^' " '^ 
Wu Auwn, ud nms awm BoUe hcut Mka timm^ 

Ita Uoodj boDd, lad M*»dt parhi|M| now pMl^' ' 
Child, (V BO aged, helplMB mui or two ^ 

What 'm duB in one ■amhikted oitj, - 

Whore thoanml lanm, and tiei, uid (fatfaa pv#t 

Cockneys of London ! MneeadiM rfftiiel '' •'[ 

Jiut ponder what a pioae paetiiBe war ii> ' l' 



nink bow die J4^ of reading a Oaaetta 
An pnrchaaed I7 all agoniei and erinMi t 

Or if these do not more yon, do n't ferget 
Such doom may be your o»-n !n after-times. 

Meantime the Taxes, Castlereagli, and Debt, 
Are hints as g;ood as sermons, or as rhvmes. 

Read your own hearts and Ireland's present story. 

Then feed her famine fet with Weileslcy's glory. 



But still there is unto a patriot nation, 

Which loves so well its country and ita king, 

A subject ofsublimest exultation — 

Bear it, ye Muses, on your brightest wing ! 

Bowe'er the mighty locust. Desolation, 

Strip your green fields, and to your harvests cling, 

Gaunt famine never shall approach the throne — 

Though Ireland starve, great Geoige weighs twenty at 



But let roe pot an end unto my theme : 

There was an end of Ismail — hapless town ! 

Far Saah'd her burning towers o'er Danube's strean^ 
And redly ran his blushing waters do«-n, - 

^K horrid war.whoop and the shriller scream 
Rose still ; but fainter were the thunders grown t 

or forty thousand who bad mann'd the wall, 

Some baadniM breathed — the nst were silent all ! 



JUL DON IVAN* 



cxxvm. 



In one thing ne'ertheless 't is fit to praise 
The Russian army upon this occasion, 

A virtue much in fashion now-a-days, 
And therefore worthy of commemoration : 

The topic|*8 tender, so shall be my phrase — 
Perhaps the season's chill, and their long station 

In winter's depth, or want of rest and victual. 

Had made them chaste ; — they ravish'd very litttOt 



CXXIX. 

Much did they slay, more plunder, and no leas 
Might here and there occur some violation 

In the other line ; — but not to such excess 
As when the French, that dissipated nation. 

Take towns by storm : no causes can I guess, 
Except cold weather and commiseration ; 

But all the ladies, save some twenty score, 

Were almost as much virgins as before. 



cxxx. 

Some odd mistakes, too, happen'd in the dark, 
Which show'd a want of lanterns, or of taste — 

Indeed the smoke was such tbey scarce could mark 

Their friends from foes, — besides such things from hasta 

Occur, though rarely, when there is a spark 
Of light to save the venerably chaste : 

But six old damsels, each of seventy years. 

Were all defiower'd by difierent grenadiers. 

CXXXI. 

But on the whole their continent was great ; 

So that some disappointment there ensued 
To those who had felt the inconvenient state 

Of " single blessedness," and thought it good 
(Since it was not their fault, but only fate, 

To bear these crosses) for each waning prude 
To make a Roman sort of Sabine wedding. 
Without the expense and the suspeoBe ot \y»\&A%« 




SoiDo roieaa ofdn bosom wiUBiK-Mgid 
Wera abo heard to wondor in tha dui 

(Widow! o{ tarty m 
« Wbenfore tfas 

Bat while ths thint fi _ 

Then wu nttll leiaura (or npeifloooa nj 

But wbather tbay escaped or oo, lies hid 

In dariuMM — IcancHily faopa tbejdid. 



aemm so wommr IB ua tmm 
irty vera theoo binb long Nfed) 
e the nriehiiig did not bqpa I ** 
thiret for gore and plandar nga^ 



SuwuTow DOW mm conqmror— a match 
For llmour or for Zinghii in hii trade. 

While moeqiiM aitd atreeta, beneeth hw eyee, I!ks ftn^h 
Blazed, and the cannon'a roar wms aearoe allajr*^ 

With bloody handa be wrote bis first despatch ; 
And here exnctlv follows what he said ; — 

» Glory to God and lo the Empress ! " (Povera 

Etenud! mch names mingled!) "Ismail's o\m\*** 

cxxxrv. 
Hethinks these are (he most tremendous words, 

Since " Mene, Mene, Tekcl," and " Upharsin," 
Which hands or pens have ever traced of swords. 

Heaven help me ! I 'm but little of a parson : 
What Daniel read wns short.hand of the Lord's, 

Severe, sublime ; the prophet wrote no farce on 
'Hie fate of nations ; — but this Russ so witty 
Could rhyme, like Nero, o'er a burning city. 



He wrote this Polar melody, and set it. 
Duly accomjwnied by shrieks and groans. 

Which few will sing, 1 trust, but none foi^t it - 
For I will teach, if possible, the stones 

To rise against earth's tyrants. Never let it 
Be said that we still truekle unto thrones ;-^ 

But ye — our cbildrec's children! think how we 

Kiow'd wAot (hingM were before the world was ftesl 



* In tha origiml Roidui — 

** Slav* ban ! ulavm vam ! 
Krrpott Vnla, ^ Tli ttia.' 
AlMcfcoaplM; ferhawwavoM. 



eAMTOTIIL 



DON JUAN. Sis 



CXXXVI. 



That hour is not for us, but 't is for you : 
And OS, in the great joy of your millennium^ 

You hardly will believe such things were true 

As now occur, I thought that I would pen you 'em ; 

But may their very memory perish too ! — 

Yet if perchance remember'd, still disdain you 'em 

More than you scorn the savages of yore, 

Who painted their bare limbs, but not with gore. 



cxxxvn. 

And when you hear historians talk of thrones. 
And those that sate upon them, let it be 

As we now gaze u[)on the mammoth's bones, 
And wonder what old world such thin^js could 

Or hieroglyphics on Egyptian stones, 
The pleasant riddles of futurity — 

Guessing at what sliall happily be hid. 

As the real purpose of a pyramid. 



CXXXVIII. 

Reader ! I have kept my word, — at least so far 
As the first Canto promised. You have now 

Had sketches of love, tempest, travel, war — 
All very accurate, you must allow. 

And epic, if plain truth should prove no bar ; 
For I have drawn much less with a lonij bow 

Than my forerunners. Carelessly I sing, • 

But Phcebus lends me now and then a string. 



CXXXIX. 

With which I still can harp, and carp, and fiddle. 

What farther hath befallen or may befall 
The hero of this grand poetic riddle, 

I by and by may tell you, if at all : 
But now I choose to bn'ak olf in the middle^ 

Worn out with battering Isma'vVa 8tuV>\H>Tti n<)^^ 
While Juan is sent off with the deapalc\\. 
For which all Petersburgh is on t\\e nvtslIcVi* 




TtoM ■peeul inmor wpa tmi&n'i, bv^ftimt 
He bwl behKYod with eoanga utd hnniBaitj— 

Which lad meB lik^ when th^ ixn tuns to fu 
From thur ferocitiM produced by Tuiity. 

His litde captive gein'd him aoma appluue 
For nving her emidit the wild inmiitj 

Of cunage,— end I think he waa more dad ia 1 

Sm&ty, than hia new ordn ofgL Thdimir. 



Hm Modan onhan went with her pr elet it Qt , 
For Ae waa bomelem, boiuelMa, hnljilf aa : il 

Her friendt^ like the sad family of Hector, 
Had pcrish'd in the field or by the wall : 

Her very place of birth was but a spectre 
Of what it hud been; ther« the Muc^jtin's ca 

To prayer woa heard no more ! — and Juan wo 

And made a vow to shield her, which he kept. 



DON JUAN. 



GANTO THS NINTH. 



I. 

Oh, Wellington ! (or " Vilainton " — for fame 
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways ; 

France could not even conquer your great namey 
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase-— 

Beating or beaten she will laugh the same,) 

You have obtainM great pensions and much praise: 

Glory like yours should any dare gainsay, 

Humanity would rise, and thunder " Nay ! " * 



II. 

I do n't think that you used Kinnaird quite well 
In Marinet's aftair — in fact, 't was shabby, 

And like^sorne other tilings, won't do to tell 
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey. 

Upon the rest 't is not worth while to dwell, 

Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby; 

But though your years as man tend fast to zero. 

In fact your grace is still but a young hero. 



in. 

Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much. 
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more : 

You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch, 
A j)rop not quite so certain as before : 

The Spanish, and the French, as well as Dutch* 
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore • 

And Waterloo has made the world your debtor — 

iX wish your bards would sing it rather better). 

• Query, Ney ? — PaiNTB&' 8 D»t u.. 



''«; 




Ton ua " the best of cut-tiiroats : " — do not atari ; 
"Rtt phiase is Sliaks^K^uroV aDd not iniBafji^ed i-^ 
"* * ' ■ .:, uMiil).ip.i,sKlting art, 



haT« acted cma a ReBcnm put, 
'ora'aniMta 



B woild, not tbe vorU'a niMtara, «S dMU% M 
A&d I al^ be delighted to loam whOk 
Sam you and yonn^ han gun'd bf WiNriwI i'/. 

T. 

I am BO flatterer — yoaNBanpi^dfiillafflidta^l 
They ny yoa like it too — ^ ia no gftmt woBHfw 

He wlMse whole life has been a— nit and faattuj^ .^ 
At la«t may get a little tired of thnnder; 

And Bwallowing eulogy much more tiian aatira, ha 
May like being praised for every lucky blunder, 

Call'd " Saviour of the Nations " — not yet savedf 

And " Europe's Liberator" — still enslaved. 



I 've done. Now go and dine from off the plate 
Presented b^ tlie Prince of the Brazils, 

And send tbe sentinel before your gale * 
A slice or two from your luxurious meals : 

He fought, but bos not fed so well of late. 

Some hunger, too, tbey say tbe people fee^ : ^ 

There is no doubt that you deserve your ration, 

But pray give back a little to tbe nation. 



I do n't mean to reflect — a man so great as 
Yoi^ my lord duke ! is far above reflection : 

The high Roman fashion, too, of Cincinnatua, 
With modem history has but small connexitm : 

Though as an Irishman you love potatoes, 

Tou need not take them under your direction, 

And half a million for your Sabine farm 

Is rather dear ! — f 'm sure I mean no harm. 

* "latthktiawgotapoMibeing Ibr&tigtiejwilh foor allien. Wb wartnM 
H bnak huenit, and make a mna lot Lord WelliDgton'i bonada. I wmt ValT 
Imgrf, and [hougbl ir a good job ai ihe Dme, ai wa got oar own ID arhilB wa 
Amb Ifcs biactdl, — a ihins I Ind not «l far «mm day*. Wwa Aw >««•< 
rfta nodigal Son «w never <nca ou at mf n^\ M&\ »»A, T«\ia;j» 
*•* orar mr banbla nRntiun aoA an iini*4*on^*. — J™«i«a 4 «m1m 



doffi, owar mr banbla nRntiun vA m tiom 
•<«> 7ij>i Ayutott dan^ lk« War n Spaia. 



StllTO SL 



OOH JVAlf. 315 



vm. 



Great men have always scorn'd great recompeiises : 
Epaminondas saved his Thebes, and died, 

Not leaving even his funeral expenses : 

George Washington had thanks and nought besidOf 

Except the all-cloudless glory (which few men's is) 
To free his country : Pitt too had his pride. 

And as a high-soui'd minister of state is 

Renown'd for ruining Great Britain gratis. 



IX. 

Never had mortal man such opportunity, 

Except Napoleon, or abused it more : 
You might have freed fallen Europe from the unity 

Of tyrants, and been blcss'd from shore to shore : 
And now — what is your fame ? Shall the Muse tune it ye? 

Now — that the rabble's first vain shouts are o'er? 
Go ! hear it in your famish'd country's cries ! 
Behold the world ! and curse your victories ! 



X. 

As these new cantos touch on warlike feats. 
To you the unflattering Muse deigns to inscribe 

Truths that you will not read in the Gazettes, 
But which 't is time to teach the hireling tribe 

Who fatten on their country's gore, and debts, 
Must be recited, and — without a bribe. 

You did great things ; but not being great in mind. 

Have left undone the greatest — and mankind. 



XI. 

Death laughs — Go ponder o'er the skeleton 
With which men image out the unknown thing 

That hides the past world, like to a set sun 

Which still elsewhere may rouse a brighter spring — 

Death laughs at all you weep for : — look w^iv 
This hourly dread of all ! whose tlirealetCd slm^ 

Turns life to terror, even though in its nV^ealXv \ 
Mark ! how its Uplcaa mouth grins YfUVvonl \itQ».\Xi\ 




Bhikl hinr it Innghs anil scorns nt nil yon are' 

It JoHgkt nul — iLuxu L Hull- iiL. lle^bj- JjiT 

Bo odTd ; tbe Antie long Imdi ceMsd tD AMf' 
BatMlUbsmifet; and wlwther mbt «r ftr, "' |'^ 

He Btripa from man that roanttB (fin- mdn tUt' 
Tiaa eran tho tailor^), lus incanals Mm, ■•'■■'■ '-"^ 
Whito, blacfc, or copper — Aff dMd boMriwtt IpMtr* 



And tbrm Deaft hagte, — it i> »d iiiiiiliMiit^ ;' " 

But Btill it i* M> ; and with aaek ana^ila 
Why fhoatd not Life be equally eontent 

With bis superior, in a smile to trample 
Upon the nothings which are daily spent 

Like bubbles on an ocean much leas ample 
Than the eternal deluge, which devours 
Suns as rays — worli^ like atoms — years like boon? 



« To be, or not to be T that is the question," 

Saya Shakspcare, who just now is much in farfiion. 

I am neither Alexander nor Hephsation, 

Nor ever had for abstraet fame much paarion ; 

But would much rather have a sound digestion 
Than Buonaparte's cancer: — could I dash OS 

"nirough 6(iy victories to shame or fame. 

Without a stomach — what were a good namot 



■Oh dare ilia meaaommt" — -Oh, 

Te rigid guts of reaperv ! " — I translate 

For the great benefit of (hoae who know 
What indigestion is — that inward late 

Which iDokea all Styx through one small Uvvr fl 

A peasaat'a sweat ia worth his lord's ortato t 

let Out one toil for braad —that iw^ f« nnA^ 



A peasaat'a sweat ia worth his lord's ortato t 

ot Out one toil for bread — ihol r»A. tw wrt, 

^ .He wiwalenwbMt nay bathe onAQOitoDk. , 



DON JUAIf. 817 



XVI. 



«* To be, or not to be ?" — Ere I decide, 

I should be glad to know that which is being* 

T is true we speculate both far and wide, 
And deem, because we see, we are aUseeing : 

For my part, I '11 enlist on neither side. 
Until I see both sides for once agreeing. 

For me, I sometimes think that life is death. 

Rather than life a mere affair of breath. 



XVII. 

^ Que 8cais.je ? " was the motto of Montaigne^ 

As also of the first academicians ; 
That all is dubious which man may attain, 

Was one of their most favourite positions. 
There 's no sucli thing as certainty, that 's plain 

As any of Mortality's conditions ; 
So little do we know what we 're about in 
This world, I doubt if doubt itself be doubting. 



XVIII. 

It is a pleasant voyage perhaps to float. 

Like Pyrrho, on a sea of speculation ; 
But what if carrying sail capsize the boat ? 

Your wise men do n't know much of navigation ; 
And swimming long in the abyss of thought 

Is apt to tire : a calm and shallow station 
WeH nigh the shore, where one stoops down and gathers 
Some pretty shell, is best for moderate bathers. 



XIX. 

•• But heaven," as Cassio says, " is above all — 
-^ No more of this, then, — let us pray ! "PfrVe have 
Souls to save, since Eve's slip and Adam's fallj 
Which tumbled all mankind intp the grave, 
y> Besides fish, beasts, and birds. tlJhe sparrow's fall 
Is special providence," though how vl ^^nq 
0£fence, we know not; probably \t petcWd 
Upon the tree which Eve so fondly fioaicVi^^ 




Oh I TaimnortBlgodal wintii 

Ohi ttoa,tM>,iiiaTtaJiiwii! «riKtw|ij 
CHi ! worid, wliidt ma uid i^ wlurt ii 

Sona Moph !»¥« KMuaed 
And ynt I kDow. no mora thi 

Thatfcwnn thia dcak, of wint tfa^"HMs;— Uak 
I compnb^ri, for witboot traMfuiimliuu juirqiy 

Hen become wofarae oa waty rii^ iieiaaiia 



I ButI,lheiBiUM^n 

^ Like HoMLlir Hducdioa, wlM hav* aaW 
Done any IhiDg exceedingly imkind, — 

And (though I could not now and then forbear 
Following the bent of body or of mind) 

Have always had a tendency to spare, — 
Why do they call me misanlbrope ? Because 
Tltey haU mc, not I them : — and here we '11 panes. 



T is time we should proceed with our good poenii ^ 

For I maintain that it is really good. 
Not only in the body but the proein. 

However little both are underelood 
Just now, — but by and by the Truth will show 'ea 

Herself in her sublimest attitude : 
And till she doth, I fain must be content ^ 

To ahare her beauty and her boniahment. 



Our hero (and, I trust, kind reader! youra-^) 

Was len upon his way to the chief city 
Of the immortal Peter's polish'd boors. 

Who still have shown tbemselvea more brave than wit^ 
I know ils'mighty empire now allures ■ 

Much flattery — even Voltaire's, and that *a a pitr. 
For met I deem on abeoVtte vaXocnX 



DON JVA3X. 310 



And I will war, at least in words (and — should 
My chance so happen — deeds) with all who war 

With Thought ; — and of Thought's foe^ by far most rude« 
Tyrants and sycophants have been and are^ 

I know not who may conquer : if I could 
Have such a prescience, it should be no bar 

To this my plain, sworn, downright detestation 

Of every despotism in every nation* 



It is not tnat I adulate the people : 

Without me, there are demagogues enough^ 

And infidels, to pull down every steeple, 

And set up in their stead some proper stuff. 

Whether they may sow scepticism to reap hell, 
As is the Christian dogma rather rough, 

I do not know ; — I wish men to be free 

As much from mobs as kings — from you as me« 



XXVI. 

The consequence is, being of no party, 
I shall olFcnd all parties : — never mind ! 

My words, at least, are more sincere and hearty 
Than if I sought to sail before the wind. 

He who has nought to gain can have small art : ho 
Who neither wislies to be bound ^pr bind, 

Mtcy still expatiate freely, as will I, 

Nor give my voice to slavery's jackal cry. 



XXVII. 

That 's an appropriate simile, that jackal ; — 
1 've heard them in the Ephesian ruins howl 

By night, as do that mercenary pack all, 

Power's base purveyors, who for pickings prowl, 

And scent the prey their masters would attack ^11% 
However, the poor jackals are less fo\\\ 

(As being the brave lions' keen piovvdeti^ 
nan human insectSy catering for spvdnta* 




Roiw bat U arm ! 't will brusli tbeir web «way, 
And without Ihat, tlieir poison and Ibetr elawi 

Are tmHam. , Mind, good people ! what I say — 
(Or nthar peoples) — go on without pauae! 

^M web of these tarantulas eacb day 

iDcnuaa, (111 you shall make caimnoD cauaoi 

Nom, nra tlie Spanish fly and Attic bee, 

Am yet an flroDgly slinging to be free. 



Don Jaasi who bad dMM>B ia Um hto duu^i^ .- 

Was laft opoB bia way widi tha itmmtA, 
Whwe blood waa tal^d ofaa w» wnnld of watiri 

And carcasses that lay as thick as thatch 
O'er silenced cities, merely served to flatter 
. Fair Catherine's pastime — who look'd oD the Diateb 
lift Between these nations as a main of cocks, 
'( Wherein she liked her own to stand like rocka. 



And there in a kibilka he roll'd on, 

(A cursed sort of carriage without springs, 

Wiiich on rough roads lenvea scarcely a whole bona,) 
Pondering on glory, chivalry, and kings. 

And orders, and on alt that he had done — 
And wishing that poat-horws had tlie wings 

Of Pegasus, or at the least post-chaises 

Had feathers, when a traveller on deep ways in 



At eYery jolt — and they were many — stiD 
He tum'd his eyes upon his little char^, 
As if he wish'd that she should fare Ic-ss ill 

Hian he, in these sad highways left at large 
To nits, snd flints, and lordy Nature's skill. 
Who is no paviour, not admits a barge 
€ht her canals, where God takes acs. «.id\KD&t 
FMery and farm, both into Ua <nni^as&. 



tiMTO IX. l>ON JVAJKm 



At least he pays no rent, and has best right 

To be the first of what we used to call 
** Gentlemen farmers '* — a race worn out quite. 

Since lately there have been no rents at ally 
And ** gentlemen " are in a piteous plight. 

And " farmers " can't raise Ceres from her fall : 
She fell with Buonaparte — What strange thoughts 

• Arise, when we see emperors fall with oats ! 

xxxin* 

But Juan turn'd his eyes on the sweet child 

Whom he had saved from slaughter — what a trophy ! 

Oh ! ye who build up monuments, defiled 

With gore, like Nadir Shah, that costive sophy, 

W^ho, after leaving ilindostan a wild, 
And scarce to the Mogul a cup of coffee 

To soothe his woes withal, was slain, the sinner! 

Because he could no more digest his dinner ; — * 

XXXIV. 

Oh ye ! or we ! or he ! or she ! reflect, 

That 07ie life saved, especially if young 
Or pretty, is a thing to recollect 

Far sweeter than the preonest laurels sprung 

• From the manure of human clay, though deck'd 

With all the praises ever said or sung : 
Though hymn'd by every harp, unless within 
Your heart joins chorusi. Fame is but a din. 

XXXV. 

* 

Oh ! ye great authors luminous, voluminous ! 

Yet twice ten hundred thousand daily scribes ! 
Whose pamphlets, volumes, newspapers, illumine U8 \ 

Whether you 're paid by government in bribes. 
To prove the public debt is not consuming us — 

Or, roughly treading on the " courtier's kibes *' 
With clownish heel, your popular circulation 
Feeds you by printing half the reaWa 8\a.TNTsA\wi\— 

• /fe wa& kUIed in a conspiracy, after lus temper Yvav\ \>e«ti eT»»V*«toA^\sf 
0iimme coa^vity, to a degree of inBanitv . 




CbtngumtwaOunl—'^ApiopmimkaUt^-^Vx 
I han fogotUta what I wmat to anr, 

A«aoDntunM haw been gKMtarMM/lolii— ../ 
T WM ■«— 'fc'ig olcnhtwd to Sttj 

An wnth iM bunw^ [wIkco^ iw oote: 
Ceitea it would ban bmo bat thrava av^i 

And^hat *■ one eomiwt for my loit adrieai . i 

Altfaoo^ no doubt it wu bayond all prii» I 



Buttet itgo;— it win ooe day ba fimad 

Witb oOer rdio of" a fornior woM," 

When diia vnld riiall bejormer, i 



Thrown topsy-turvy, twisted, crisp'd, and curi'd, 
Baked, fried, or burnt, tum'd inside-out, or drowo'd* 

Like all the worlds before, wliich have been huri'd 
First out of, and then back again to cliaos 
The superstratum which will overlay us. 



So Cuvier says ; — and then shall come again 

Unto the new creation, rising out 
From our old crash, some mystic, ancient strain 

Of things.destroy'd and left in airy doubt: 
Like to the notions we now entertain 

Of Titans, giants, fellows of about 
Some hundred feet in height, not to say mitea. 
And. mammoths, and your winged crocodiles. 



nink if then George the Fourth should be dug (9 1 

How the new worldlings of the then new Eut 
Will wonder where such animals could sup ! 

(For they themselves will be but of the least t 
Even worlds miscarry, when too oft they pupt 

And every new creation hath decreased 
la size, froin overworkvivj t\« maXetwi — 
Mea ara but maggoU of Boa» ^^asa "fiasftiftXMwi.^ 



CUNTO DC. IMIW JUAir. 



XL. 



How will ~^o these youn^ people, just thrust out 
From some fresh Paradise, and set to plough. 

And dig, and sweat, and turn themselves about, 

And plant, and reap, and spin, and grind, and loWf ^ 

Till all the arts at length are brought about^ 
Especially of war and taxing, — how, 

I say, will these great relics, when they see 'em, « 

Look like the monsters of a new museum? 



XLI. 



But I am apt to grow too metaphysical : 
**The time is out of joint," — and so am I; 

I quite forget this poem 's merely quizzical, 
And deviate into matters rather drv. 

1 ne'er decide what I shall say, and this I call 
Much too poetical : men should know why 

They write, and for what end ; but, note or text, 

I never know the word which will come next. 



XLII. 

So on I ramble, now and then narrating, 

Now pondering : — it is time we should narrate* 

I left Don Juan with his horses baiting — 

Now we '11 get o'er the ground at a great rate. 

1 shall not be particular in stating 

His journey, we 've so many tours of late: 

Suppose him then at Petersburgh ; suppose 

That pleasarnt capital of painted snows ; 



'XLIII. 

Suppose him in a handsome uniform ; 

A scarlet coat, black facings, a long plume. 
Waving, like sails new shiver'd in a storm, 

Over a cock'd hat in a crowded room, 
And brilliant breeches, bright as a Cavm GotmA^ 

Of yellow casimiTe we may presume. 
White stockings drawn uncurdled us wevi uvffi^ 
O'erUiabb wltobn symmetry set off lUe »V\k-, 



'24 DON JVAH, 



ZUT. 



Suppose him sword by side^ and hat in hand» 
Made up by youth, fiune, and an army tailor-^ 

That great enchanter, at whose rod's comqiand 
Beauty springs forth, and Nature's self turns pnlert 

Seeing how Art can make her work more grand 

(When she do n't pin men's limbs in like a jailer)^^ 

Behold him placed as if upon a pillar ! He 

Secftns Love tum'd a lieutenant of artillery ! 



ZLV. 

His bandage slipp'd down into a cravftt ; 

His wings subdued to epaulettes ; his quiver 
Shrunk to a scabbard, with his arrows at 

His side as a small sword, but sharp as ever ; 
His bow converted into a cock'd hat ; 

But still so like, that Psvcho were more clever 
Than some wives (who moke blunders no less stupid), 
If she had not mistaken him for Cupid. 



XLVI 

The courtiers stared, tlie ladies wliisperM, and 

The empress smiled : the reigning favourite frown'd — 

I quite forgot winch of them was in hand 

Jfust tlirn ; as tlu*y are ratlier numoruus found, 

Who took by tnrn> that dliricult command 
Since first her majesty was singly crown'd 

But they were mostly nervous six-foot fellows. 

All fit to make a Patagonian jealous. 

XL^^I. 

Juan was none of these, but slight and slim, 
Blushing and beardless ; and vet no'ertheless 

There was a something in his turn of liinb, 

And still more in his eye, which seem'd to express. 

That though he look'd one of the seraphim, 
There lurk'd a man beneath the spirit's dress. 

Besides, the empress sometimes liked a lM>y, 

And had just buried the fair-laced Lanslioi.* 

• Hb wom the " grrande pjawdon" ot l\v« gc^isAfi C^j^^rvMi.— ^j^\«t\3Bwik^ 
mader the head of "* Lanskoi.*' 



ti 



tAUfO EX. 



DON JUAN. 885 



xLvin. 



No wonder then that Yermoloff, or Moraonofi, 

Or Sc her ba toff, or any other off 
Or o/t, might dread her majesty had not room enough 

Within her bosom (which was not too tough) 
For a new flame ; a thought to cast of gloom enough 

Along the aspect, whether smooth or rough, 
Of him who, in the language of his station 
Then held that «« high official situation." 

XLDC. 

O, gentle ladies ! should you seek to know 

1 he import of this diplomatic phrase. 
Bid Ireland's Londonderry's Marquess* show 

His parts of speech ; and in the strange displajTi 
Of that odd string of words, all in a row, 

Which none divine, and every one obeys. 
Perhaps you may pick out some queer no meaning 
Of that weak wordy harvest the sole gleaning. 



L. 

I think I can explain myself without 
That sad inexplicable beast of prey — 

That Sj)hinx, whose words would ever be a doubt* 
Did not his deeds unriddle them each day^ 

That monstrous hieroglyphic — that long spout 
Of blood and water, leaden Castlereagh ! 

And here I must an anecdote relate, 

But luckily of no great length or weight. 



LI. 

An English lady ask'd of an Italian, 
What were the actual and official duties 

Of the strange thing, some women set a value on* 
Which hovers oft about some married beauties, 

Call'd " Cavalier servente 1 " — a Pygmalion 
Whose statues warm (I fear, alas ! too true 't is. 

Beneath his art. The dame, press'd to dv^c^Voo^ V>[i«ca, 

Said — " Lady, I beseech yovi to suppose. tlu^m% ^ 



» 77jw waa wntUm long before the suicide o( tHwiX v^ttfii^ 



kM bM vvjafe 




ui. 



And tfans I lopplieatB ycnr tfopfcm&om. 
And mildofltf imtraii-liko intsrimtefiai^ 

Of the imperial l«Toiirite*i oonditioib 
T was a hi^ place, the faisheat in tbe 

In fiict, if not in rank ; and the anapieiott 
Of any one'a attaining to hia atatun. 

No doubt gave pain, where each new pair of 

If rather hroad, made atocka riae and their hoidawi' 



... -■.! 
.'I 




un. 



Juan, I said, was a moat beanteooa boj, ' 

And had retain'd his boyish k>ok bi^md ' , 

The usual hirsute seasons which deatroyt '• ' 

With beards and whiskers, and the lika^ Ihafliiil 

Parisian aspect which opaet old TVoy ', "j!!,' ' 

And founded Doctorr ComuKMis:— f Wva aWi 



The history of divorces, which, though ehmgi ti f ^ ' ' 
Calls Uion's the first damagea on remd. 



KIT. 

And Catherine^ who loved all things, (save her lord. 
Who was gone to his place,) and passM for much, 

Admiring those (by dainty damos abhorr'd) 
Gigantic gentlemen, yet had a touch 

Of sentiment ; and he she most adored 
Was the lamented Lanskoi, who was such 

A lover as had cost her many a tear. 

And yet but made a middling grenadier. 



LV* 

Oh, thoo <" tetcrrima causa " of all « belli " — 
Thou gate of life and death — thou nondescript I 

Whence is our exit and our entrance, — well I 
May pause in pondering how all souls are dipped 

In thy perennial fountain : —Qow man feO, I 
Kdow not, since knowledge saw her branchea atrippM 

Ofl^r first fruit i but how Vie t«»a wA tvm 
Smee, thou haat settled beyond «3\ wniMfia. 



DON JVAK. 9V9 



LVI. 



Some call thee ** the worst cause of war," but I 
Maintain thou art the best : for, aflter all. 

From thee we come, to thee we go, and why, 
To get at thee, not batter down a wall. 

Or waste a world ? since no one can deny 

Thou dost replenish worlds both great and small 

With, or without thee, all things at a stand 

Are, or would be, thou sea of life's dry land ! 



Lvn. 

Catherine, who was the grand epitome 

Of that great cause of war, or peace, or what 

You please (it causes all the things which be. 
So you may take your choice of this or that)- 

Catherine, I say, was very glad to see 

The handsome herald, on whose plumage sat 

Victory ; and, pausing as she saw him kneel 

With his despatch, forgot to break the seal. 



LVIII. 

Then recollecting the whole empress, nor 

Forgetting quite the woman (which composed 

At least three parts of this great whole), she tore 
The letter open with an air which posed 

The court, that watchM each look her visage wore, 
Until a royal smih; at length disclosed 

Fair weather for tlie day. Though rather spacious, 

Her face was noble, her eyes fine, mouth gracious. 



LIX. 

Great joy was hers, or rather joys : the first 
Was a ta'en city, thirty thousand slain. 

Glory and triumph o'er her aspect burst. 
As an East Indian sunrise on the main. 

These quench'd a moment her ambition's thirst — 
So Arab deserts drink in summer's t^Vtv •. 

In vain! — As fall the dews on quencVAciaa ^^iv^*s 
Blood oD^y serves to wash Ambitiou'a \i«Liid»\ 



129 DOH JUAIf. 



LX. 



Her next amiisement was more fanciful ; 

She smiled at mad Suwarrow's rhymes* who threw 
Into a Russian couplet rather dull 

The whole gazette of thousands whom he slew* 
Her third was feminine enough to annul 

The sliudder which runs naturally through 
Our veins, when things calPd sovereigns think it heel 
To kill, and generals turn it into jest. 

LXI. 

The two first feelings ran their course complete. 
And linhted first her eve, and then h^ mouth: 

The whole court look'd immediately roost sweet. 
Like flowers well watcr'd after a long drouth : — 

But wb^n on the lieutenant at her feet 
Her mnjesty, who liked to gaze on youth 

Almost as much as on a new despatch. 

Glanced mildly, all the world was on the watclu 

LXU. 

Though somewhat largo, exu!>prant, and truculent, 
When irroih — whil«» jt/rased, she was as fine a figure 

As those who like thinirs rosy, ripe, and succulent. 
Would wish to look on, whilo thoy are in vigour. 

She could repay each amatory look you lent 

With interest, and in turn was wont with rigour 

To exact of Cupid's bills the full amount 

At sight, nor would permit you to discount. 

LXIII. 

With her the latter, though at times convenient, 

W^as not so necessarv ; for thev tell 
That she was handsome, and though fierce, looked lenient^ 

And alwavs used her favourites too well. 
If once beyond her boudoir's precincts in ye went. 

Your " fortune " was in a fair wav " to swell 
A man," (as Giles says) ; * for, though she would widow ali 
Nations, she liked man as an individual. 

• '* IUb fortune « wells him, it i» Ttink,\\e '* Tsvwncji:* — ^« ^^jK%^«tnMe3L\ 
iAMiSGER, — See ** A A'tio \\'<iy to pot| Old DAu?' 



eAMTODL 



DON JlTAlf. 820 



Lxnr, 



What a strange thing is man ! and what a stranger 
Is woman ! What a whirlwind is her head, 

And what a whirlpool full of depth and danger 
Is all the rest about her ! Whether wed, 

Or widow, maid, or mother, she can change her 
Mind like the wind : whatever she has said 

Or done, is light to what she '11 say or do ; — 

The oldest thing on record, and yet new ! 



LXV. 

Oh Catherine ! (for of all interjections 

To thee both oh ! and ah ! belong of nght 

In love and war) how odd are the connexions 
Of human thoughts, which jostle in their flight! 

Just now yours were cut out in dilferent sections : 
First Ismail's capture caught your fancy quite ; 

Next of new knights, the fresh and glorious batch ; 

And thirdly he who brought you the despatch ! 



LXVI. 

Shakspeare talks of " the herald Mercury 

New lighted on a heavcn-kissing hill ; " 
And some such visions cross'd her majesty. 

While her young herald knelt before her still. 
*T is very true the hill scem'd rather high, 

For a lieutenant to climb up ; but skill 
Smoothed even the Simplon's steep, and by God's blessing, 
With youth and health all kisses are '* heaven-kissing 



» 



Lxvn. 

Her majesty look'd down, the youth look'd up — 
And so they fell in love ; — she witli his face, 

His grace, his God-knows-what : for Cupid's cup 
With the first draught intoxicates apace, 

A quintessential laudanum or "black drop," 

Which makes one drunk at once, mlVvovxX. VVv^ \s«a^ 



Expedient of Ml bumpers ; for the eye 
In love drinks aU life's fountains (wLve 



\eat«^ ^rj 



DAN JVk-H, 



Lzmt. 



H«, on the other hand, if not in love, 
Fell into that no less imporioua passion, 

Self-love — which, when some sort of thing nbovs 
Ourselves, a singer, dancer, much in fashion, 

Or duchess, princess, empress, " deijins to prove '■ 
(T is Pope's phrase) a great longing, though & tU 

For one especial person out of mnoy, 

Hakes us bdiove ourselves as good as any. 



iBesides. he n*R3of that delighted age 

I Whiirb mukus all t'eiimW ngps equal — when 

tWe do n'l much care wiib wliom we may engage^ 

I Aa b(4d u Daniel in the lion's den, 

I So that we can our native sun assuage 

I In the next ocean, which may flow just then, 

I To make a twilight id, just as Sol's heat is 

I Quench 'd in the lap of the salt sea, or Thetis. 



And Catherine (we must say thus much tor Catheriw]^ 
Though bold and bloody, was the kind of thing 

Whose temporary passion was quite flattering. 
Because each lover look'd a sort of king, 

Hade up upon an amatory pattern, 

A royal husband in all save the ring — 

Which being the damn'dest part of matrimony, 

Seem'd taking out the sting to leave the honey. 



And when yon add to this, her womanhood 
In its meridian, her blue eyes or ertiy — 

The last, if they have soul, are quite ns good, 
Or better, aa the best examples sav : 

Napoleon's, Mary's (queen of Scotland), shonld 
Lend to that colour ■ transcendent ray ; 

And Pallas also sanctions the s&maViK, 

Too WHS to UtA Ofon^ 09tic«\te<:3Loc ^la^- 



OAWfo n. z>OiN jiTAif* 831 



Her sweet smilcy and her then majestic figure^ 
Her plumpness, her imperial condescension, 

Her preference of a boy to men much bigger 
(Fellows whom Messalina's self would pension). 

Her prime of life, just now in juicy vigour, 

With other extras, which we need not mention,— 

All these, or any one of these, explain 

Enough to make a stripling very vain. 



Lxxin. 

And that 's enough, for love is vanity. 

Selfish in its beginning as its end. 
Except where 't is a mere insanity, 

A maddening spirit which would strive to blend 
Itsolf with beauty's fniil inanity, 

On which the passion's self seems to depend : 
And hence some heathenish philosophers 
Make love the main-spring of the universe. 



LXXIV. 

Besides Platonic love, besides the love 
Of God, the love of sentiment, the loving 

Of faithful pairs — (1 needs must rhyme with dove. 
That good old steam-boat which keeps verses moving 

'Gainst reason — Reason ne'er was hand-and-glove 
With rhyme, but always lean'd less to improving 

The sound than sense) — besides all these pretences 

To love, there are those things which words name aensos 



LXXV. 

Those movements, those improvements in our l>odie8, 
Which make all bodies anxious to get out 

Of their own sand-pits, to mix with a goddess. 
For all such women are at first, no doubt. 

How beautiful that moment ! and how odd is 
That fever whichprecedes the \ax\^u\d tomI 

Of our aensationa f^What a curious way 

The whole thiog ia of clothing sou\a in cVay K]^ 



wm JVAir. 



Tlie ndbhft kind of Iof« is loie Hrtaineit 
To end or to begin with ; tiie iMxt grand 

Is that which may be ehriston'd loro oanomcn^ 
Because the clergy take the thing in hand; 

"nie third sort to be noted in our chnmide 
As flourishing in every Christian land. 

Is, when chaste matrons to their other ties 

Add what mny be callM 



Wen, we wont analyse— oor stoiy most 

Tdl for itself: the sovereign was smittei^ 
Tuan macb flatter'd by her love, or hist ; — - 

I cannot stop to alter words once written. 
And the two are so mix'd with human dust, 

That he who names one, both perchance may hit on 
But in such matters Russia's mighty empress 
Behaved no better than a common sempstress 



XX vm. 

The whole court melted into one wide whisper 
And all lips were applied unto all ears 

The elder ladies' wrinkles curl'd much crisper 
As they beheld ; the younger cast some leers 

On one another, and each lovely lisper 

Smil'd as she talk'd the matter o'er ; but tears 

Of rivalship rose in each clouded eye 

Of all the standing army who stood by. 



LXXIX. 

All the ambassadors of all the powers 

Inquired, Who was this very new young man. 

Who promised to be great in some few hours t 
Which is full soon, (though life is but a span). 

Already they beheld the silver showers 

» «r 

Of rubles rain, as fast as s^cie can, 
t^poD his cabinet, beskdestVie ^tesciiXa 
Of several ribands, and some \XiooiMxA ^^ASAaD^m^ 



eunotE. DON JUAif. 33:1 



LXXX. 

Catherine was generous, — all such ladies are : 
Love, that great opener of the heart and all 

The ways that lead there, he they near or far, 
Above, below, by turnpikes great or small, — 

Love — (though she had a cursed taste for war, 
And was not the best wife, unless we call 

Such Clytemnestra, though perhaps 't is better 

That one should die, than two drag on the fetter) 



LXXXI. 

Love had made Catherine make each lover's fortunoi 

Unlike our own half-chaste Elizal)eth, 
Whose avarice all disbursements did importune, 

If history, the grand liar, ever saith 
The truth ; and though grief her old age might shorten, 

Because she put a favourite to death, 
Her vile, ambiguous method of flirtation. 
And stinginess, disgrace her sex and station. 



Lxxxn. 

But when the levee rose, and all was bustle 
In the dissolving circle, all the nations' 

Ambassadors began as 't were to hustle 

Round the young man with their congratulations. 

Also the softer silks were heard to rustle 
Of gentle dames, among whose recreations 

It is to speculate on handsome faces, 

Especially when such lead to high places. 



Lxxxni. 

Juan, who found himself, he knew not how, 
A general object of attention, made 

His answers with a very graceful bow. 
As if born for the ministerial trade. 

Though modest, on his unembarrass'd brovr 
Nature had written "gentleman." He asui 

L/ttle, but to the purpose ; and hia manner 
Flung hovering graces o'er him like a banner, 




So lofty Ihiit I fpfl my brain (urn D*iin(C 

And all ray fancies whirling like a mill ; 
Which is a signal to my nerves and brain, 
To take a quiet ride in some green lane 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THE lENTH. 



I. 



When Newton saw an apple fallJhe found 

In thttt slight startle from his contemplation ^mm 

T is said (for I '11 not answer above ground 
For any sage's creed or calculation) — 

A mode of proving that the earth turn'd round 
In a most natural whirl, cali'd "gravitation;* 

And this is the sole mortal who could grapple. 

Since Adam, with a fall, or with an apple* 



n. 

Man fell with apples, isind with apples rose, 
If this be true ; for we must deem the mode 

In which Sir Isaac Newton could disclose 

Through the then unpaved stars the turnpike road, 

A thing to counterbalance human woes : 
For ever since immortal man hath glow'd 

With all kinds of mechanics, and full soon 

Steam-engines will conduct him to the moon 



III. 

And wherefore this exordium ? — Why, just now, 
In taking up this paltry sheet of paper, 

My bosom underwent a glorious glow. 
And my internal spirit cut a caper : 

And though so much inferior, us I know, 

To those who, by the dint of g\as3 and n^i^ms 

Discover stars, and sail in the wind's eye, 
/ wish to do as much by poesy. 



- > 



1 



In dM wind'a eye I have anil'd, nnd snil ; hut for 
Hm atars, I own my telescope is dim : 

Bit at th« Icnst 1 've shuno'd the common shor«. 
And leaving land far out of sight, would skim 

The ocenn of eternity: the roar 

Ofhnakers has not dnuntod my slight, Iripn, 

But j(iB M«.woithy diff ; and m mnj float 

When tbigt han fboadar'^ as^otfa maiiy ■ hal 



We left oar bare, Jnaa, in tin Hmb 

Of fevoaritiaoi, bat not yet in thattHk;*-* 
And &r be it fnta my JIBiiBt to fnm^m 

(For I have more than one Muse at a push) 
To follow him beyond the drawing-room : 

It is enough that Fortune found him flush 
Of youth, and vigour, beauty, and those thinga 
Which for an instant clip enjoyment's wings. 



But soon they grow again and leave their nest. 

" Oh ! " saith the Psalmist, " that I had a dove's 
Pinions to flee away, and be at rest ! " 

And who tluit recollects young years and love^ — 
Though hoory now, pnd with a withering breast, 

And palsied fanc}', which no longer roves 
Beyond its dimin'd eye's sphere, — but would much ralbw 
Sigh hke his son, than cough like his grandfather t 



But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') dmnk, 

Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow. 
So narrow as to shame their wintry brink. 

Which threatens inundations deep and yellow ! 
Such diflurence doth a few months make. You'd 11 

Grief a rich field which never would lie fitllow ; 
No more it doth, its pAoug\» VmI eWix^ ft 
Who furrow some new soft to atwi tat yii^*. 



gunox. 



DON JUAN. 891 



vni. 



But couighs will come when sighs depart — and now 
And then before sighs cease ; for oft the one 

Will bring the other, ere the lake-like brow 
Is rufHed by a wrinkle, or the sun 

Of life reach'd ten o'clock : and while a glow. 
Hectic and brief as summer's day nigh done, 

O'erspreads the cheek which seems too pure for clay^ 

Thousands blaze, love, hope« die, — how happy they! 



iz. 

But Juan was not meant to die so soon. 

We left him in the focus of such glory 
As may l)e won by favour of the moon 

Or ladies' fancies — rather transitory 
Perhaps; but who would scorn the month of June, 

Because December, with his breath so hoary, 
Must come ? Much rather should he court the ray, 
To hoard up warmth against a wintry day. 



'1^ 



X. 

Besides, he had some qualities which fix 
Middle-aged ladies even more than young : 

The former know what's what ; while new-lledged chickfl 
Know little more of love than what is sung 

In rhymes, or dream'd (for fancy will play tricks) 
In visions of those skies from whence Love sprung. 

Some reckon women by their suns or years, 

I rather think the moon should date the dears. 



XI. 

And why? because she 's changeable and chaste. 

I know no other reason, whatsoe'er 
Suspicious people, who find fault in haste, 

May choose to tax me with ; which is not favt^ 
Nor flattering to " their temper or tVieit taa\e,** 

As my friend Jeffrey writes with sucVi an «at \ 
However, I forgive hinif and I trust 
Hfi will forgive himself; — if not, 1 must. 




Old enonaes who have become new friend 
Sboold ft) coDtiDue — 'I is a point of honottr{ 

And I hunv nolliing whicli could mnke nmendi 
For ft return to Imlred : I would shun Iter 

Like gBflit, howsoever slic extends 

Her hondred arms and legs, and fain outrun bi 

Old Auaea, new wives, become our biltejesl foeS' 

CoBTflrted iocs sbould scorn to join with those. 



^Us were the worst desertion : — renegadons, 
Enn sfautftiDg Souihev, that incarnate liot 

Woold MSTcely join ngain Ihe "rctbrinnt' 
Whom he Icir-sook lo fill tlie laureBfe' 

And honest men from Iceland to Barbadoes, 
Whether in Caledou or Italy, 

Should not veer round with every breath, nor M 

To pain, the moment when you cease to please. 



^1>e lawyer and the critic but behold 
The baser aides of literature and life, 

And nought remains unseen, but much untold, 
By tho>>e who scour those double rales ofatrife. 

While common men grow ignorantly old, 
' The lawyer's brief is like the surgeon's knifet 

Dissecting the whole inside of a question, 

And with it all the process of digestion. 



A legal broom 'e a moral chimney-sweeper 
And that 's the reason he himself 's so diit^i 

Tba endless soot f bestows a tint far deeper 
Than can be hid by altering his shirt; be 

Retains the sable .atains of the dark creeper. 
At least some twcntv-nine do out of thirty, 

In all their habits ; — not so you, I own ; 

As Casar wore his robe you wear your gown. 



• 'RftOnata," or rmlllM "RefanwA." TWBMta'B™ 
vmlrj, H aDttiontr for lb« m»^ 
[ t Qoety, nit 7 — PaiMW'm DKf ii- 



OAMTO Z. DON JUAN. 

XVI. 

A.nd all our little feuds, at least all mine^ 
Dear Jeffrey, once my most redoubted foe 

(As far OS rhyme and criticism combine 
To make such pu[)pcts of us things below). 

Are over : Here 's a health to " Auld Lang Syne ! ** 
I do not know vou, and may never know 

Your face — but you have acted on the whole 

Most nobly, and I own it from my soul. 

XVII. 

And when I use the phrase of ** Auld Lang Syne ! '' 
'T is not address'd to you — the more 's the pity 

For me, for I would rather take my wine 

With you, than aught (save Scott) in your proud city. 

But somehow, — it may seem a schoolboy's whine. 
And yet I seek not to be grand nor witty, 

But I am half a Scot bv birth, and bred 

A whole one, and mv heart flies to my head, — 

xviir. 
As " Auld Lang Syne " brings Scotland, one and all, 

Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear 
streams, 
The Dec, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall^ * 

All my boy feelings, all my gentler dreams 
Of what I then dreamt^ clothed in their own pall. 

Like Banquo's otfspring ; — floating past mes eems 
My childhood in this childishness of mine : 
I care not — 't is a glimpse of" Auld Lang Syne.' 

XIX. 

And though, as you remombcr, in a fit 

Of wrath and rhyme, when juvenile and curly, 

I rail'd at. Scots to show my wrath and wit. 
Which must be own'd was sensitive and surly, 

Yet 't is in vain such sallies to permit, 

They cannot quench young feelings fresh and early : 

I " scotched not kill'd " the Scotchman in my blood. 

And love the land of" mountain and of flood." 

• The brig of Don, near the " nuld tonn " of Aberrlften, with its one nrrh, 
and its Mark ilee]> salmon Rlreara brlow, is in my memory as yestonlay. I still 
remember, though perhaps T may misquote, the awful pn>verb which made me 
pause to cross it, and yet lean over it with a childish delight, be.lu^ «.tv ox^'S vvcv^ 
at least by the mother's side. The raying, as reco\\ec\ev\ \i^ ttic, >Kaa ^Owa^— 
but I have never heard or seen it since I \i'as nine ^eaw ol ti^ft •• — 

" Brij^ of Halgoiinie, black 'b your tixi' , 
Wi a wife's ae son, and a roeax^a oe /col 
Doun ve ahoil iU' ! " 



79 



^ 



nox jvxn 



Don Juftn, who was real, or ideal, — 

For both are much the tauae, nncc wiiat men Ma 
Exists when (lie once thinkers are lets reid 

Than what they thought, for mind can nr^ver < 
And 'gainst the body makes a strong apptNil ( 

And yel 't is very puzzling on the brink 
or what is cali'd eternity, to stare, 
And know no more of what is here, than there ; 



// 

/ n Don Juan grew a very poliah'd Ruiisian — 
y' HotB we won't mtution, why we need not si, 
^ Pew youthM minds cnn stand Ihe strung eoDcusai<M 
Of any slight temptation Id their way; 
But &it just now were spread as is a cushion 

Sfflooth'd for a monarch's seat of honour : gay 
Damsels, and dances, revels, ready money. 
Made ice seem paradise, and winter sunny, 



The favour of the ei 

And though the duty v 
Young people at his time of life should be able 

To come off handsomely in that regard. 
He was now growing up like a green tree, tHAa 

For love, war, or ambition, which reward 
Their luckier votaries, till old age's tedium 
Make oouie profer the circulating medium. 



About Uiis time, as might have been anticipated* 

Seduced by youth and dangerous examplee^ 
Don Juan grew, 1 fear, a little dissipated ; 

Which is a sad thing, and not only tramples 
On our fresh feelings, but — as being participated 
>Fitb all kinds of incciin^^)\B sam^ Vea 
(X frail homanity — nmst mahfi \is «i\%^ 
Amd Aat our sonte up is na Vi)w & (ki&£^. 



ourro z. don juan. Ml 



This we pass over. We will also pass 
The usual progress of intrigues between 

Unequal matches, such as are, alas ! 

A young lieutenant's with a not old queen, 

But one who is not so youthful as she was 
In all tlie royalty of sweet seventeen. 

Sovereigns may sway materials, but not matter. 

And wrinkles, the d d democrats, won't flatter. 



And Death, the sovereign's sovereign, though the great 

(jracchus of all mortality, who levels, 
With his Airrarian laws, the hipfh estate 

Olliini who leasts, and fights, and roars, and revels, 
To one small grass-«»;rown patch (which must await 

Corruption for its crop) with the poor devils 
Who never had a foot of land till now, — 
Death 's a reformer, all men must allow. 



XXVI. 

lie lived (not Death, but Juan) in a hurry 

Of waste, and haste, and glare, and gloss, and glitter. 

In this gay clime of boar-skins black and furry — 
Which (though I hate to say a tiling tiiat 's bitter) 

Peep out sometiinc^s, when things are in a flurry, 
Through all tiie ** purple and fine linen," fitter 

For Babylon's than Russia's royal harlot — 

And neutralise her outward show of scarlet 



xxvn. 

And this same state we won't describe : we would 
Perhaps from hearsay, or from recollection ; 

But getting nigh grim Dante's " obscure wood/* 
That horrid equinox, that hateful section 

Of human years, that half-way house, t\\a,l t>3Afe 

Hut, wlicncG wise travellers drive vrvtVv c\tciv«ws'^««.^^s>'^ 

Life's sad posUhoraea o'er the dreary Cronlvet 

Of age, and looking back to youth, give oae Veat \— 



DOX J DAS. 



I wtmt dwcribe, — (hat ia, if I can help 
Deaoriplion; and 1 won't reflect, — thn I n. 

If I aan atave otf ihoughl, which — as a whHp 

Olinp to itx leat — Bllcka to rae tbrougli the BlifwJ 

Ofthii odd lubvrinlti ; or hs the kdji 
Holds bj- the rock ; or its a lov^r'a hisa 

Draina ito tint druiglu M'lipa : — bn^ u i au^ 
dmDtniMd. 



JaaB, uwtMuI of cointiag oam^ wh cMirtKl^i' ' 
f A thing which happena nrelj : thu ba m ni 

^IHuch to hia youth, and mnch to hU reported 

Valour ; much also to the blood he showM, 
Like a race-horse ; much to each dress he sported. 

Which set the beaict y off in which ho glow'd, 
Aa purple clouds befringe the sua ; but most 
He owed to an old woman and his post. 



He wrote to Spain : — and all hia near relatioDS, 
Perceiving he nas in a handsome way 

Ofgetltng on himself, and finding stalioas 
For cousins also, answcr'd tlie same diiy. 

Several prepared themselves for emigrations ; 
And eating ices, were o'erheard to say, 

That with the addition of a slight pelisse, 

Madrid'a and Moscow's climes were ofa piece 



His mother, Donna Inez, finding, too, 

That in the lieu of drawing on his banker, 
Where his assets were waxing rather few. 

He had brought hia spending to a handsome anchor, - 
Replied, " that she was glad to see him through 

Those pleasures aflet vi\k\i:,\\ wvld ^outh will hank^ ; 
A» the Bole sign of man's tem^aVw winw» 
U, Jearning to reduce \ai ^aaX «^™«». 



CJMTOZ. DON JUAN. 843 



xzzn 

<* She also recommended him to God, 

And no less to God's Son, as well as Mother, 

Warn'd him against Greek worship, which looks odd 
In Catholic eyes ; but told him, too, to smother 

Outicard dislike, which do n't look well abroad ; 
Inlbrni'd him that he had a little brother 

Born in a second wedlock ; and above 

All, praised the empress's maternal love. 

xxxin. 

'' She could not too much give her approbation 
Unto an empress, who prcferr'd young men 

Whose age, and what was better still, whose nation 
And climate, stopp'd all scandal (now and then) : — 

At home it niij^iit have given her some vexation ; 
But where therniomtjters sunk down to ten. 

Or five, or one, or zero, she could never 

Believe that virtue thaw'd before the river." 



XXXI v. 



Oh for B. forty-parson poioer * to chant 

Thy praise, Hypocrisy ! Oh for a hymn 
Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt. 

Not practise ! Oh for trumps of cherubim ! 
Or the ear-trumpet of my good old aunt. 

Who, though her spectacles at last grew dim. 
Drew quiet consolation through its hint. 
When she no more could read the pious print 

XXXV, 

She was no hypocrite at least, poor soul. 

But went to heaven in as sincere a way 
As any body on the elected roll, 

Which portions out upon the judgment day 
Heaven's freeholds, in a sort of doomsday scroll* 

Such as the conqueror William did repay 
His knights with, lofting others' properties 
Into some sixty thousand new knights' fees. 

• A metapbur taken from the " fortyhoree powet" ot tv «ewti-<Kv\^w*. '^'^^ 
mad nag, the Reverend i^idncv Smilh, »ilUngby abtoxXxw-cVstvE^'^t^'^^JJ^T^ 
ii0i; ohaerved a/terwanla that his dull neighbour hod fli** ttrdw-^raon "po»«« 
eoarenatioB. 



I can*t eoaplain, whose sncoslon are then, 
FriMiii. Kadulpltua — eiglit.andJarty cniuMTa 

(If that my memory doth not greatly err) 

Wen thoJr reward for fullowmg Billy's banoerai 

Aod tbongh I can't help thinkintif 'I wits scarce &ir 
To strip the Saxons of their hydes. * like tatmen ; 

Tet M tboy founded churches with tite produce, ' 

Tou ni deem, no doubt, tbey put it to ti good U9e» 



Titt gentk Juan Sourish'd, thoiufa «t tirow 

Which Bhrink fnalBltJfmUSSiAki do Irmi ij 
Save such as Sontbey can afl!wd to giro. 

Perhapa he long'd in bitter frosts for ctimcs 
In which the Neva's ice would cease lo live 

Before May-day : perhaps, despite his duty. 

In royalty's vast arms he sigh'd for beauly : 



Perhaps, — but, sans perhaps, ne need not seek 
For causes young or old : the canker-worm 

Will feed upon the fairest, freshest clieek. 
As well as further drain the wither'd form ; 

Care, like a housekeeper, brings everr week 
His bill!) in, and however we may storm, 

They must be paid : though six days smoothly ruo. 

The seventh will bring blue devils or a dun. 



I do n'l know how it was, but he grew sick t 
Tbe empress was alariu'd, and her phyncian 

(The same who physick'd Peter) found the lick 
Of his fierce pulse betoken a condition 

Which augur'd of the dead, however quuJt 
Itself, and show'd a feverish disposition ; 

At which the whole court was extrem*^ly Iroubted, 

The sovereign shock'd, and all his medicines doubled. 

•- Urito." — I beBovB a byd« ot Una »>*»l«*fi««» ■«»*,«*,« ■ 



DON JUAN 345 



XL. 



Low were the whispers, manifold the rumours : 
Some said ho had l>cen poison'd by Potemkin ; 

Others talk'd learnedly of certain tumours, 
Exhaustion, or disorders of the same kin ; 

Some said 't was a concoction of the humours, 
Which with the blood too readily will claim kin : 

Others again were ready to maintain, 

^ 'T was only the fatigue of last campaign." 



XLI. 

But here is one prescription out of many : 

" Sodae sulphat. 3vj. 3rs. IVfannse optim. 
Aq. fervcni. f*. ^ifs. 3ij. tinct. Sennas 

Haiistus " (And hero tiie surgeon came and cupp'd him) 
" R. Pulv. Corn. gr. iij. Ipecacuanhaj" 

(With more beside, if Juan had not stopp'd 'em), 
" Bolus Potassae Sulphuret. suniendus, 
£t haustus tei in die capiendus." 



XLII. 

This is the way physicians mend or end us, 
Secundum arteni : but although we sneer 

In health — when ill, we call them to attend us. 
Without the least propensity to jeer : 

While that " hiatus maxiuic detlendus " 
To be fillM up by spade or mattock 's near, 

Instead of ghding graciously down Lethe, 

We tcjise mild Baillie, or soft Abernethy. 



xLin. 

Juan demurr'd at this first notice to 

Quit ; and thougli death had threaten'd an ejection, 
Ilis youth and constitution bore him through, 

And sent the doctors in a new direction. 
But still his state was delicate : the hue 

Of health but dickered with a fainl teiVecVvoTk 
Along his wanted cheek, and scem'd to gtaveV 
The faculty — who said that he musl ttov^^. 



DOS iriur. 



Hm cUiHie wfts too cold, they said, fi>r him. 

Heridimn-born, (o bluoiii in. This opinion 
Mule tb> diosle Calherine look n litllo erm. 

Who did tioi like u( lin<i to lom h«r minion : 
But «fKiiifae saw liLS dazzling eye wnx dim. 

And drooiiing like an eaclv'K wiih di|>{i'd piucm, 
She then resolved to send lilm on n rnis&ioii, 



But in n otjla b 



There waa just then a kind of n dueoawNW 

A nrt of treaty or n^otuticHi 
Between the British cabinet and Rmrian, 

Maintain'd with all t!ie due prevarication 
With which groat stales such things arc apt to push O 

Something atiout the Bailie's navigation. 
Hides, train.oil, tallow, and the rights of Thetis 
Which Britons deem their " uti possidetis." 



So Catherine, who had a handsome way 

Of fitting out her favourites, conferr'd 
This secret charge on Juan, to display 

At once her roynl splendour, and reward 
His services. He kiss'd hands the next day. 

Received instructions how to play his card. 
Was laden with all kinds of giils i-.nd honours. 
Which show'd what gre^t discernment was the donor'» 



But she was lucky, and luck 's all. Toui queen 

Are generally prosperous in reigning ; 
Which puzzles us lo know what Fortune means. 

But to continue : though her years M-ere waning 
Her climacteric teased her like her teens ; 
And (hough her dignity \tto(^'& t«> c»ni^\»uAn^t 
80 much did Juan's aeUing off A\BVTBaB\»i, 
She could not find at firat a 61 aic«»t«. 



tAMTOJU DON JUAN. 347 



XLVIU. 

But time, the comforter, will come at last ; 

And four-and-twcnty hours, and twice that number 
Of candidates requesting to he placed, 

Made Catherine taste next night a quiet slumber : — 
Not that stie meant to fix again in haste, 

Nor did she find the quantity encumber, 
But always ciioosing with deliberation, 
Kept the place open for their emulation. 

XLIX. 

While this high post of honour *s in abeyance. 

For one or two days, reader, we request 
You 'II mount with our young hero the conveyance 

Whicii wafted him from Petershurgh : the best 
Barouche, which had the glory to display once 

The fair czarina's autocratic crest, 
WlieF), a new Iphigene, she went to Tauris, 
Was given to her favourite, * and now bore his, 

L. 

A bull -dog, and a bullfinch, and an ermine. 

All private favonritos of Don Juan; — for 
(Let deeper sages tlie true cause determine) 

He had a kind of inclination, or 
Weakness, for what most people deem mere vermin. 

Live animals : an old maid of threescore 
For cats and birds more penchant ne'er display'd, 
Although he was not old, nor even a maid ; — 

LI. 

The animals aforesaid occupied 

Their station : there were valets, secretaries. 

In other vehicles ; but at his side 

Sat little Leila, who survived the parries 

lie made 'gainst Cossacque sabres, in the wide 

Slaughter of Ismail. Though my wild Muse varies 

Iler note, she don't forget the infant girl 

Whom he preserved, a pure and Uviug ^eaxX. 

♦ The Fmprcm went to the Crimea, accomvmnied ^Y iJ^^ ^Jiw^etoi "io**-^ 
in ibe year— J forget which. 




D>>N J 17 AM. 



Poor Stde ttiing ! Siie was ai Tair u ibieile. 

And «iA tliut gcmle, serious clutrsclar, 
Afl rare in livlag beiuga hs & fossile 

Mmn, 'midst thy mouldy mammoths, " grand CuriarU 
111 fitted W&& her ignorance la jostle 

With tliia oVrwIielmiag world, where nil miut ei 
But ihe wu yet but (en years old, and Ihercfora 
Wu tranqoLl, though ^he knew not why or whcnifora. 



Don Juu loved ber, and ntw loved tan, m 
Nor brother, t 



He waa not yet quite old enough to ^ve 
Parental feelings, and the other clasa, 

Call'd hrotherly affection, could not more 
His bosom, — for he never had a sister: 
Ah ! if he bad, how much he would have miss 



And still less was it scnsiml ; for besides 
That he waa not an ancient debauchee, 

(Who like sour fruit, to stir their veins' salt tides. 
As acids rouse a dormant alkali,) 

Although '['t teSl hup|)cn (ts our phinet guides) 
His youth was not the chastest that might be. 

There was the purest Platonism at bottom 

Of all his feelings — only he forgot 'em. 



Just now there was no peril of temptation ; 
He loved the infiint orphan he had saved. 
As patriots (now and then) may love a nation ; 
Hia pride, too, felt that she was not enslaved 
■ Owing to him ; — as also her lalvation 

Through his means and the church's might he pavad 
But one thing 'a odd, w\u(Ai bere miisA \» "vnsfttlui, 
Tbo littlo TuA lefusod to \» cottveiXtA. 



CANTO X. 



DON JUAN. 84t 



LVI. 



T was strange enough she should retain the impression 
Thro' such a scene of change, and dread, and slaughter * 

But though three bishops told her the transgression. 
She show'd a great dislike to holy water : 

She also had no passion for confession ; 

Perhaps she had nothing to confess : — no matter 

Whate'er the cause, the church made little of it -— 

She still held out that Mahomet was a prophet. 

Lvn. 

In fact, the only Christian she could bear 

Was Juan ; whom she seem'd to have selected 

In place of what her home and friends once toere. 
lie naturally loved what he protected : 

And thus they form'd a rather curious pair, 
A guardian green in years, a ward connected 

In neither clime, time, blood, with her defender ; 

And yet this want of ties made theirs more tender. 

LVIII. 

They journey'd on through Poland and through Warsaw, 
Famous for mines of salt and yokes of iron : 

Through Courland also, which that famous farce saw 
Which gave her dukes* the graceless name of " Biron." 

'T is the same landsciipe which the modern Mars saw, 
Who inarchM to Moscow, led by Fame, the syren ! 

To lose by one month's frost some twenty years 

Of conquest, and his guard of grenadiers. 

LIX. 

Let this not seem an anti-climax : — " Oh ! 

My guard ! my old guard ! " exclaim'd that god of clay. 
Think of the Thunderer's falling down below 

Carotid-artery-cutting Castlereagh ! 
Alas ! that glory should be cliill'd by snow! 

But sliould we wish to warm us on our way 
Through Poland, there is Kosciusko's name 
Might scatter fire through ice, like Hocla's flame. 

1 Tvttmiufjtrr ifvuuj/f tit rjiininiiu in me nic'8Hc?a year oi \.u« ivuww— vftfe \j>^k:X\©''^ 
ofS.—to whom tlie EngUah DucheiM of Somersev pT««eiae^ xaa ^» ^ "cwi^w- 



- f 



nax jrAX. 



Fkmb Pohnd tlicy came on Ihrough Pnimjt 
And Kfinlgsberg tlie capital, whose vaunt, 

BMidessome veina of iron, kad, or cf>p)icr, 
Hu lately been the grcAt Prules.s4ir Kant. 

JiUBi wbo cared not a lubac co-slop per 
About i^iloDupliy, pursued liix jaunt 

To GenBftny, wboae soaicwbat tanJy miUioB 

Han princes who epur more than their 



And flwBOT! through Berlin, UrMdon, and the Ukei 

Until ha n-nc.hVI t\w casletlaM Rhine: — 
T« glorious iioiliio scenes ! bow much ye Btrike 

All phant:T~i(?', not even oxcepting mine; 
A gray wall, a green ruin, rusty pike, 

Make my soul pass the equinoctial line 
Between the present and past worlds, and horer 
Upon their airy confine, half-aeas-over. 



But Juan posted on through Manbeim, Bonn, 
Which Drachenfels frowns over like a spectre 

Oftlie good feudal times for ever gone. 

On which I have not time jusl now to lecture. 

From thence he was drawn onwards to Cologne^ 
A city which presents to the inspector 

Eleven thousand maidenheads of bone. 

The greatest number flesh hath ever known. * 



From thence to Holland's Hague and Helvoetaliqn^ 
That water-land of Dutchmen and of ditches. 

Where juniper expresses its best juice, , 

The poor man's sparkling substitute for richea. 

Senates and sages have condemn'd its use — - 
But to deny the mob a cordial, which is 

Too often all the clothing, meat, or fuel. 

Good govemment has left them, seems bat cruel. 




Here he embark'il, and with a flowing sail 
Went bounding for the island of the free. 

Towards which the impatient wind blew half a gals] 
High dash'd the spray, the bowa dipp'd in the 80% 

And sea-sick passengers turn'd somewhat pale ; 
But Juan, scason'd, as he weU might be. 

By former voyages, stood to watch the skiffs 

Which pass'd, or catch the first glimpse of the clifie. 



At length tliey rose, like a white wall along 
'f lie blue sea's border ; and Don Juan felt — 

What even young slran^-rs feel a little strong 
At the first sight of Albion's chalky Iwlt — 

A kind of pride timt he should lie among 

Those haughty shopkeepers, who sternly dealt 

Their goods and edicts out from pole to pole, 

And made the very billows pay them toll. 



I 've no great cause to love that spot of earth. 

Which holds wliat might have been the noblest nation; 

But though I owe it little but my hirlh, 
1 feel n mix'd regrnt and veneration 

For its deciiying fame and tomier worth. 

Seven years (the usual term of transportation) 

Of absence lay one's old resentments level. 

When a man's country 'u going to the devil. 



Alas ! could she hut fully, truly, know 

How her great name is now throughout abhorrM; 
How eager all the earth is for the blow 

Which shall lay bare her bosom to the sword • 
How all the nations deem her their worst Con, 

That n-orso than worst offoet, tVte once B.<)Lotc& 
Fabe friend, who held out freedom lo i(uuilVlv(v&> 
And DOW would chain thcui, to the ver^ iakn&^ — 




ViMild Ab be proud, or boant betMlTtbe ^m, 
Wba is kill firat ofslavta ? Tin nstieoB u« 

Ib priaom — but tlio gaulur, what b bol 
No l«M a viciim to tho bult aoil bar 

Is the poor privikg^e lo turn tli» ki'y 

UpoD Um cnptivei, rreedum 7 He 'h as iar 

From the dijoynK-nl of the earth and air 

Wbo witi^s o'er the chain, as they who wetr. 



Don JiUB now sat* Albion's e«riiwt h 

Thjr cli^ d 
Thy eostont-hii 

Thy waiters running mucks at every bdt ; 
Thy packets, all whose patisengers are booti«n 

To those wbo upon land or water dwell ; 
And lual, not least, to strangers uninstrucled, 
Thy long, long bills, whence nothing id deducted. 



Juan, though careless, young, and magnificjue, 
And rich in rubles, diamonds, cash, and credit, 

Who did not limit much hi^ bills per week. 

Yet stared nt this a little, though he paid it, — 

(His Mag^ior Duomo, a snmrr, subtle tim^k. 

Before him sucnm'd the awful scroll and read it :) 

But doubtless as the air, though seldom sunny, 

Is free, the respiration 'a worth the money. 



On with the horses ! Off to Canterbury * [puddls; 

Tramp, tramp o'er pebble, and splash, splash thioogh 
Hurrah ! how swiftly speeds the post so merry ! 
Not like slow Germany, wherein they muddln 
Along the road, as if they went to bury 

Their fare ; and also pause besides, to fuddle, 
With "schnapps" — ■&& ^^\ '«^»nn " HundsGat,** tg 
" Verflucter," 
JL^ect IK> inM« than lisbtoin* * «»««««• 




DO JOAir 



Now there is Dothing gives a. man such aplritt, 
Leaveaing his blood as cayenne doth a cuny, 

As goipg at fall speed — no matter where its 
Direction be, bo 't ia but in a hurry, 

And mcro.^ for the sake of its own oierits ; 
For the leas cause there ia for all thia flurry, 

The greater is tlie pleasure in arriving 

At the great end of travel — wMch is driviog. 



They saw at Cantcrbiirv the cathedral ; 

Bhick Edward's heirn, and Becket's bloodj' stone. 
Were poinlcd out us usual by the bedral, 

III tlic sU[nG quiiint, uniiilcrcatcd (one: — 
There 's glory again for you, gentle reader ! AH 

Ends in a rusty casque and dubious bone, 
Half.ijulved into those sodas or magnesias. 
Which form that bitter draught, the human specieK. 



LXXIV. 

The efTect on Juiin wrts of course sublime : 
He breathed a thousand Cresays, a:i he saw 

That casque, which never stoop'd except to Time 
Even the bold Ciiurchiiian's tomb excited awe) 

Who died in the then great altem|it to climb 
O'er kings, who iwio at least moat talk of law 

Before they butcher. Little Leila gazed, 

And asked why such a structure had been raised : 



lAnd Deing told it was " God's house,"j6ho snid 
Ele was well lodged, bul only wonder'd how 
He suffer'd Infidels in liis homestead, 

The cruel Na/ai-eiiO!., who liiid laid low 
His holy temples in the lands wliicli bred 

The True Believers ; — and her mtwA \>tow 
Was beat wifli grief that Mahomet aV\ou\& nw^ 
A foeque so noble, dung Like peaila lo awina. 



DOX IV ^y. 



On! OB I Ihrough meadows, nmnsgpd lik" n gnidci^ 1 
A pftndisc orho]is and high production ; 

For aiW years of trnvel by a bard in 

Coantru-a of greater beat, but lesser suction, 

A gTBen StU is a sight wbicb muke:) hicn pnrdon 
Tho «bience of thai more sublime coDBtruotuin ! 

Which mixes up vines, olives, precipices, 

Glacief% Tolcaooa, oniitgis:;, and ices. 



And when I ihink upoii a pot of beer ■ 

Butlwcn't «F.'(?ii! — jifiii so drive on, poslilioml i 

As the smart tMys sparr'd fast in tbcir career, 
Juan admired these higliM'ays of free tniiliona ; 

K country in all senses the most dear 
To foreigner or native, save sonie sillr ones, 

iVho " kick against Ihc pricks" just at this junctora, 

knd for their pains get only a fresh puncture. 



What a deli^lful thing 'a a. turnpike road ! 

So smooth, so level, such a mode of shaving 
The earth, as scarce the eagle in the broad 

Air can accomplish, nith his wide wings waring. 
Had Bucli been cut in Phaeton's time, the god 

Had lold his son to satisfy his craving 
With the York mail ; — but onward as we roU, 
** Surgit amari oliquid " — the toll 



Alas 1 bow ietjAj painful is all payment ! 

Take lives, tuke wives, take aught except men's pi 
As Machiavel shows ihosR in purple Taiment, 
Such is the shortest way to general curses. 
They hato a murderer much less than a clftimant 
On that Bweet ore wWch everj Mini's wmna. — 
Kill a man's family, and \v6 ma.^ \k«Jb.\.V 
But fceep your hy"Ai out vX 'Om te««^w»' yw^* -. 



CANTO Z. 



DON JUAN. WIS 



LXXX. 



So said the Florentine : ye monarchs, hearken 
To your instructor. Juan now was borne, 

Just as the day be^an to wane and darken, 

O'er the high hill, which looks with pride or scorn 

Toward the great city. — Ye who have a spark in 
Your veins of Cockney spirit, smile or mourn, 

According as you take things well or ill ; — 

B^ld Britons, we are now on Shooter's Hill ! 



LXXXI. 

The sun went down, the smoke rose up, as from 
A hulf-unquenchM volcano, o'er a space 

Which well b<»sotMn'd the ** Devil's drawing-room,** 
As some hiive qualified that wondrous place : 

But Juan felt, though not approaching liome, 
As one who, thoiii^h he were not of the race, 

Revered the soil, of those true sons the mother, 

Wiio butcher'd half the earth, and bullied t' other. • 



LXXXII. 

A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, 

Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye 
Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping 

In sight, then lost amidst the forestry 
Of masts ; a wilderness of steeples peeping 

On tiptoe thro^igh their sea-coal canopy;* 
A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown 
On a fool's head — and there is London Town ' 



LXXXIII. 

But Juan saw not this : each wreath of smoke 
Appear'd to him hut as the magic vapour 

Of some alchymic furnace, from whence broke 

The wealth of worlds (a wealth of tax and paper) x 

The gloomy clouds, which o'er it as a yoke 
Are bow'd, and put the sun out like a taper. 

Were nothing but the natural atmospWte, 

Tjxiremely wholesome, though but raTcX^ cX^'OJt. 

* India; America 




He paused — and so will f ; as doth s crew 
More ihcy give their broadside. By and by. 

My gentle counlrymen, we will renew 

Oar old Dcquikinlance ; nnd at least I II try 

To taQ vou truths ym will not take as true, 
Baeuuse Ihev areso; — a tna.. Mrs. Frj-. 

With h ^ioft b<^iii will I sw< jur balls, 

And Ifu&h u web or (wo froi- the walls. 



Oh lbs. Fry ! Why go to Newgate T Why 
AmcH to [>oor rofiocs^ And wherefore not b 

Wifli Cnrllon, or with other hooseel Try 
Your li;it)il III h;u-(].vn'd iiiid i/iip-^rial sin. 

To mend the people 's an absurdity, 
A jargoD, a mere philaathmpic din. 

Unless you make their betters better: — Fy • 

I thought you had more religion, Mrs. Fry. 



Teach them the decencies of good threescore ; 

Cure them of tours, hussar and higliland dresses ; 
Tell them that youth once gone returns no mora. 

That hired huzzas redeem no land's distressea; 
Tell them Sir William Curtis is a bore. 

Too dull even fur the dullest of excesses. 
The witless Falstaff of a hoary Hal, 
A fool whose bells have ceased to ring at all. 



Tell them, though it may be perhaps too late, 
Un life's worn confine, jaded, bloated, sated, 

To set up vain pretences of being great, 
T is not so (o be good ; and be it stated. 

The worthiest kings have ever loved IcasI slate; 

And lell them But you won't, and 1 have prsted 

Jaat now enouch ; but by aiid \>^ l'^ ^wX&d 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THE ELEVENTH. 



I. 

When Bishop Berkeley said " there was no matter,' 
And proved it — 't was no matter what he said : 

Tlmv snv his svstem 't is in vain to hatter, 
Tug suhtlo for th«3 airiest human head ; 

And yot who can helieve it ? I would shatter 
Ciladly all matters down to stone or lead, 

Or adamant, to find the world a spirit. 

And wear my head, denying that 1 wear it. , 



II. 

What a suhlime discovery 't was to make the 

Universe universal eijotism, 
That all 's id(»al — all ourxches : I '11 stake the 

World (l)e it what you will) that that 's no schism. 
Oh Douht ! — if thou he'st Douht, for which some take thee. 

But which I doubt extremely — thou sole prism 
Of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit ? 
Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly bear it 



III. 

For ever and anon comes Indigestion, 

(Not the most "dainty Ariel ") and perplexes 

Our soarings with another sort of question: 
And that which after all my spirit vexes, 

Is, that I find no spot where man can rest e^^ ow^ 
Without confusion of the sorts and aexea. 

Of beings, stars, and this unriddled 'wouAet, 
TJw world, which at the worst 's a g\ot voxia \A\wA«t 



3118 DOH JVAH. 



XT. 



If it be chance ; or if it be according 

To the old text, still better : — lest it shooM 

Turn out so, we '11 say nothing 'gainst the wordiii|^ 
As several people think such hazards rude. 

They 're right ; our days are too brief for afibrding 
Space to dispute what no one ever could 

Decide, and every body one day will 

Know very clearly — or at least lie stilL 



V. 

And therefore will I leave off metaph3r8ical 
Discussion, which is neither here nor there : 

If I agree that what is, is ; then this I call 
Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair ; 

The truth is, 1 'vc irrown lately rather phthisical: 
1 do n't know what the reason is — tiie air 

Perhaps ; hut as 1 suller Irorn the shocks 

Of illness, 1 grow much more orthodox. 



VI. 



The first attack at once proved the Divinity, 
(But tliat 1 never douhted, nor the Devil) ; 

Tlwj next, the Virii^in's mystical viririnity ; 
The third, the usual Oriijin of Evil : 

The fourth at once estahlish'd the whole Trinity 
On so uncontroverlil)h' a level, 

That I devoutly wishM the three were Four, 

On purpose to believe so much the more. 



VII. 

To our theme. — The man who has stood on the Acropoli 

And look'd dc »vn over Attica ; or he 
Who has saird wliere picturesque Constantinople is. 

Or seen Timbuctf»o, or hath taken tea 
In <«mall-eyed China's crockf^ry-ware metropolis. 

Or sat amidst the bricks of Nineveh, 
May not think muc\\ ot I^owAcaxV ^t^\. ^^^^ra^wafe— 
But o^k him what he t\ui\ks oi v\. ii ^vi^^t W\iw\ 



CUnOXl, ^^^ JUAN* 



vm. 



Don Juan had got out on Shooter's Hill ; 

Sunset the time, the place the same declivity 
Which looks along that vale of good and ill 

Where London streets ferment in full activity ; 
While every thing around was calm and still, 

Except the creak of wheels, which on their pivot he 
Heard, — and that bee-like, bubbling, busy hum 
Of cities, that boils over with their scum:— - 



IX. 

I say, Don Juan, wrapt m contemplation, 

WalkM on behind his carriage, o'er the summit, 

And lost in wonder of so great a nation. 

Gave way to 't, since he could not overcome it, 

" And here," he cried, '* is Freedom's chosen station ; 
Here peals the people's voice, nor can entomb it 

Racks, prisons, inquisitions ; resurrection 

Awaits it, each new meeting or election. 



X. 

** Here are chaste wives, pure lives ; here people pay 
But wliat they please ; and if that things be dear, 

'T is only that they love to throw away 

Their cash, to show how much they have a-year. 

Here laws arc all inviolate ; none lay 

Traps for the traveller, every highway 's clear : 

Hore — " he was interrupted by a knife. 

With, — " Damn your eyes ! your money or your life ! "■ 



XI. 

These freeborn sounds proceeded from four padt 
In ambush laid, who had perceived him loiter 

Behind his carriage ; and, like handy lads, 
Had seized the lucky hour to reconnoitre. 

In which the heedless gentleman who gads 
Upon the road, unless he prove a f\jgV\tet) 

May find himaelf within that isle of TvcViea 
Exposed to lo&e hia life as well as bTeec\ve«. 



Juan 



an vet 
Andba 




Joan, who iid not understantl a word 

~*"" _"" e their shiiilwlctb, •■ God dtmiu ! " 

And arat that he had so rarely heard. 

Ha awiMtiines thought 't was only their "SaUm," 
Or " God be with you ! " — and 'I U not absurd 

to think so ; lor half Eoglinh aa I am 
(Tomrmujtirtiine) n 
I baud tfaam wish " God with you," save that wu;;' 



Draw fbrtit a 

And fired ii 
Who fell, as rolls aa ox o'er in hia pasture, 

And roar'd out, as he writhed his native maa in. 
Unto his nearest lollower or heachman, 
« Oh Jack ! I 'to floor'd by that 'ere bloody Freccbmaii f 



On which Jack and bis train set ofi'al speed. 
And Juan's suite, late scatter'd at a distance, 

Canie up, all marvelling at such a deed. 
And otfering, as usual, late assislauce. 

Juan, who saw the moon's late minioo bleed 
As if his veins would pour out his existence, 

Stood calling out for bandages and lint. 

And wiab'd he had been less hasty with his flint. 



"Perhaps," thought he, " it is the country's m* 
To welcome foreigners in this way : now 

I recoUcct some innkeepers who do n't 
Difler, except in robbing with a bow, 

In lieu of a bare blade and brazen front. 
But what is to be done t I can't allow 

The fellow to lie groanVng o« ftie t<*i-. 
80 take him up i I ^\ ba\? yoo VaV ft« V«A." 



fiurroxi. 



DON JUAN. 861 



xvi. 

But ere they could perform this pious duty. 

The dying man cried, " Hold ! I 've got my gruel ! 

Oh ! for a glass of max/ We 've miss'd our booty ; 
Let me die where I am ! " And as the fuel 

Of life shrunk in his heart, and thick and sooty 

The drops fell from his death-wound, and he drew ill 

His breath, — he from his swelling throat untied 

A kerchief, crying, " Give Sal that ! " — and died. 

xvu. 
The cravat stainM with bloody drops fell down 

Before Don Juan's feet : he could not tell 
Exactly why it was before him thrown. 

Nor what the meaning of the man's farewell* 
Poor Tom was once a kiddy upon town, 

A thorough varmint, and a real swell. 
Full flash, all fancy, until fairly diddled. 
His pockets first and then his body riddled. 

XVIII. 

Don Juan, having done the best he could 

In all the circumstances of the case. 
As soon as " Crowner's quest " allow'd, pursued 

His travels to the capital apace ; — 
Esteeming it a little hard he should 

In twelve hours' time, and very little space. 
Have l)een obliged to slay a frecborn native 
In self-defence : this made him meditative. 

XIX. 

He from the world had cut off a great man, 
Who in his time had made lieroic bustle. 

Wbo in a row like Tom could lead the van. 
Booze in the ken, or at the spellken hustle 7 

Who queer a flat ? Who (spite of Bow-stree.t's ban) 
On the high toby.spice so flash the muzzle 7 

Who on a lark, with black-eyed Sal (his blowing). 

So prime, sf> swell, so nutty, and so knowing?* 

• The advance of soienro and of languni^ has rendered it unnecessary to 
translate the above ^rood and true Enghsh, spoken in its original purity by the 
•elect mobility and their patrons. The following is a stanza of a song which 
was very popular^ at least in niy early days : — 

** On the high toby-spice flash the nmzi\e, 
^ In spite of each gallowf) old bcout ; 

Ifvou at the speilkon can *t husUe, 
You 'U be hobUed iii making a CVoui. 




But Tool *u DO more — nod so no more of Tool. 

Hoon must die ; and by God'a lilcssiag 't U 
Not loag before tbe most of them go homei. 

Hoill iniamis, hail ! Upon thy verge it is 
That Jaui'a citariot, rolling like a dnim 

In duinder, holds the way it can't well mis, 
Thmogli Kennington and all the other " loiu,'' 
Which nulie us wish ouraelvcs in town at once ,-^ 

Through Groves, so call'd as being roid of traM^ 
(Like facuf from no light] ; through proniect 

Mount PlaBsant, aa containing nought to pleaat , 
Nor inncb to climb ; through little boxes fraiacd 

Of bricks^ to let the dust in at your ease, 

Witii " To be let," upon their doors proclnimM 

trhrough "Rows" most modestly call'd <* Paradise 

Which Eve might quit without much sacrilice ; — '\^ 

Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and a whir 
Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confiision ; 

Here taverns wooing to a pint of '■ purl," 
There mails fast flying offlike a delusion; 

There barbers' blocks with periwigs in curl 
In windows ; here tbe lamplighter's infusion 

Slowly distill'd into the glimmering glass 

(For in those days we had not got to gas — ) ; 

xxni. 
Through this, and much, and more, b the approach 

Of travellers to mighty Babylon : 
Whether they come by horse, or chaise, or cosohf 

With slight exceptions all the ways seem one. 
I could say more, but do not choose to encroach 

Upon the Guide-book's privilege. The sun 
Bad set some time, and night was on the ridge 
Of twilight, as the party cross'd the bridge. 



I ninlv lam mitch for ihe Bmj — 

II her J»ck ni»y be regular weight 
_ re be mj gemmui u ignorant a* to require ■ tnilnction, T rafcrlnKtt 

If oM Ai^nd uid rorporad piKot mnd muter^Jolui Jaduon, E»<^, ftofawcr ol 



ng^irm; win, ItnM,^. 

Anoftagolhm wiibhiasDodhaB)Dai,ui&i 



tlwrOZL ^OV JXJJLlf. 



That *s rather fine, the gentle sound of Thamis — 
Who vindicates a moment, too, his stream — 

Though hardly lieard through multifarious •* damme's.** 
The lamps of Westminster's more regular gleam, 

The t)readth of pavement, and yon shrine where fame is 
A spectral resident — whose pallid beam 

In shape of moonshine hovers o'er the pile — 

Make this a sacred part of Albion's isle. 



XXV. 

The Druids' groves are gone — so much the better : 
Stone-Henge is not — but what the devil is it? — 

But Bedlam still exists with its sage fetter. 
That madmen may not bile you on a visit ; 

The Bench too sents or suits full manv a dr.btor; 

The Mansion House too (though some people quiz it^ 

To me appears a stiff yet grand erection ; 

But then the Abbey 's worth the whole collection 



XXVI. 



The line of lights too up to Charing Cross, 
Pall-Mall, and so forth, have a coruscation 

Like gold as in comparison to dross, 

Match'd with llie Continent's illumination. 

Whose cities Night by no means deigns to gloss. 
The French were not yet a lamp-lighting nation, 

And when they grew so — on their new-found lantern* 

Instead of wicks, they made a wicked man turn. 



XXVII. 



A row of gentlemen along the streets 

Suspended, may illuminate mankind. 
As also bonfires made of country-seats ; 

But the old way is t)est for the purblind ; 
The other looks like phosphorus on sheets, 

A sort of ignis fatuus to the mind, 
Which, thoush 't is certain to perpXcx and tt\^gD^i 
Must buurn more mildly ere it can eu\\g\\V«ii« 



Boar lUAic 



But London 's so weO lit* that if IMogenei 

Could recommence to hunt his hotM 
And found him not amidst the rarioos progeniSP 

Of tills enormous city's spreading spAwn, 
T were not for want of lamps to aid his dodging hm 

Yet undiscover'd treasure. What / can, 
J 've done to find the same throughout life's jwuinejf 
But see the world is only one attorney. 



Over the stones still rattling, np Pbll Mall, 

Through crowds and carriages, but waxing tf*»«»flr 

As thunder'd knockers broke the long-seal'd apdi 
Of doors 'gainst duns, and to an early dinner 

Admitted a smal* party as night fell, — 
Don Juan, our v«'^iinK di;>loi*^atic sinner, 

Pursued his |)jith, and 'lro*'e j^ist some hotels, 

St. James's Palace ana S* Jiuh.s's " Hells." ♦ 

XXX. 

Thfev rcach'd the hotel : forth stre-^m'd from the f* .•ijl' J-> 

A tide of well-clad waiters, and around 
The mob stood, and as usual several score 

Of those pedestrian Paphians who abound 
In decent London when the davlijjht 's o'er, 

Conmindious hut immoral, they are found 
Useful, like Maithus, in promoting marriage 
But Juan now is stepping from his carriage 

XXXI. 

Into one of the sweetest of hotels, 

Especially for foreigners — and mostly 
For those whom favour or whom fortune swells^ 

And cannot find a bill's small items costlv. 
There many an envoy either dwelt or dwells 

(The den of many a diplomatic lost lie). 
Until to some conspicuous square they pass. 
And blazon o'er the door tiicir names in br«iss. 



• u 



ilelli/* gaming-linnsTB. 'Ulmt thoir number mny now be in tlui fifik I 
knownoF. Before \ was of ago 1 knew them preuy accurately, both '* gold** 
mnd ** silver." I wiw once nearly ca\\c«\ ovlv \*>y «.tv ^cv\'(ivcv.\A.uce^ be<:^M 
when he asked mc where 1 ihougHl iVml Via «>>A v!o>A^ \so ^\)xA\ftt««l>S\. 
auswered, " lu Silver Hell." 



«AHVOZI« l>OIf JVA3K* 



JOUUX. 



Juan, whose was a delicate commiBsion, 
Private, though publicly important, bore 

No title to point out with due precision 

The exact affair on which he was sent o'er, 

T was merely known that on a secret mission 
A foreigner of rank had graced our shore, 

Toung, handsome, and accomplish'd, who was said 

(In whispers) to have turn'd his sovereign's head. 

XXXIII* 

Some rumour also of some strange adventures 
Had gone before him, and his wars and loves ; 

And as romantic heads are pretty painters. 
And, above all, an Englishwoman's roves 

Into the excursive, breaking the indentures 
Of sober reason, wh<;resoe'er it moves. 

He found himself extremely in the fashion, 

Which serves our thinking people for a passion. 



XXXIV. 

I do n't mean that they are passionless, but quite 
The contrary ; but then 't is in the head ; 

Yet as the consequences are as bright 
As if they acted with the heart instead. 

What after all can signify the site 
Of ladies' lucubrations? So they lead 

In safety to the place for which you start. 

What matters if the road be head or heart 7 



XXXV. 

Juan presented in the proper place, 

To proper placemen, every Russ credential ; 

And was received with all the due grimace. 
By those who govern in the mood potential. 

Who, seeing a handsome stripling with smooth facA^ 
Thought (what in state affairs is mos\. %«9eci>\^QX>^ 

That they as easily might do the yo\iT\^l^T, 
As hawks may pounce upon a woodVanA w>\i^V«t 



^Hj arV, as aged men will do ; bat hif 
And bf we 11 talk ol'.thal ; and if w« do nt, 

T win be because our iiutioo is not high 
Of polittcinns and (heir double (roni. 

Who Btb by liesi, vet dare Dot boldly be ; — 
Now wba^ 1 love in women is, they won't 

Or eui't do otherwise than lie. but do it 

So wdl^ the Tery truth seenia tolaehood to U. 



And, «ftw all, what is a lie T T ia but 
^le truth in masqaeradc ; and I defy 

HiatotiaiM, heroes, lawyers, priests, to put ■ 
A feet without soum; jearen of a lith 

The very shadow of true Truth would shut 
Up annals, revelations, poesy, 

And prophecy — except it should be dated 

Some years before the incidents related. 



Praised be all liars and all lies \ Who now 
Can tax my mild Mnse with misaothropy t 

She rings the world's " Tc Ileum," and lier brow 
Blushes for those who will not : — but to siijb 

Is idle; let us like most others bow. 
Kiss hands, feet, any part of majesty, 

Afler the good example of" Green Erin," 

Whose shauvock now, seems rather worse for wearily 



Don Juan was presented, and his dress 
And mien excited general admiration — 

I do n't know which was more admired or len; 
One monstrous diamond drew much obserrstkn. 

Which Catherine in a moment of " ivresse" 
(Id love or brandy's fervent fermentation) 

Bcatow'd upon him, BBftiiefa%c\eax«''&\ 
^B^ to say truth, it Viad bean faiiV^ cun> ^ 



UARTOZI. 



DOW JUAW. Mt 



XL. 

Besides the ministers and underlings. 

Who must be courteous to the accredited 
Diplomatists of rather wavering kings, 

Until their royal riddle 's fully read, 
The very clerks — those somewhat dirty springfl 

Of office, or the house of office, fed • 
By foul corruption into streams, — even they 
Were hardly rude enough to earn their pay : 

XLI. 

And insolence no doubt is what they are 
Employ'd for, since it is their daily labour, 

In the dear offices of peace or war ; 

And should you doubt, pray ask of your next neighbour« 

Wljcn for a passport, or some oilier bar 

To freedom, he applied (a grief and a bore). 

If he found not this spawn of tax-born riches, 

Like lap-dogs, the least civil sons of b o . 

XLII. 

But Juan was received with much " empressement : " — 
These phrases of refinement I must borrow 

From our next neighbours' land, where, like a chessman, 
There is a move set down for joy or sorrow 

Not only in mere talking, but the press. Man 
In islands is, it seems, downright and thorough, 

More than on continents — as if the sea 

(See Billingsgate) made even the tongue more freo. 

• 

XLIII. 

And yet the British " Damme " 's rather Attic : 
Your continental oaths are but incontinent. 

And turn on things which no aristocratic 

Spirit would name, and therefore even I won't anent * 

This subject quote ; as it would lie schismatic 

In p(»litesse, and have a sound affronting in 't : — 

But " Damme" 's quite etherpil, though too daring — 

Platonic blasphemy, the soul of swearing. 

• •* Anent " was a Scotch phrase meaning " cnncermn^i^r — ** -m^ x^^p"^ 
to." ft bajs been mtde EngUth by the Scotch noveU; axi^ %m x>aft Yt*w3«s»» 
mid, ** Ifit6e not, ou^JU to & En^hr 



DON iVAH 



For dovBliglit nidmesa, ye may stay at home ; 

FcHT trtw or false [Kililenesa (aad scarce tkat 
Nate'i you Biay cruse the blue deep and white loun-^«fl 

Too fint Ilie emblem (rarely though) of what 
You Imve behind, the next or much you come 

To meot However, 't is no time to chat 
On genonl topics : poems must conliiie 
TberanlTCB to unity, like this of mine. 



In the gnat world, — which, being interpretec^ 
Mewieth the west or worat end of ■ city 

And aboot twice two thousand people bred 1 
By no means to be very wise or witty. 

But to sit up while others lie in bed, 

And look down on the universe with pity,^ 

Juan, as an inveterate patrician, 

Was well received by persona of condition. 



He was a bachelor, which is a matter 
Of import both to virgin and to bride. 

The former's hymeneal hopes to flatter ; 

And (should she not hold fust by love or pride) 

T is also of some moment to the latter : 
A rib 's a thorn in a wed gallant's side, 

Requires decorum, and is apt to double 

Thv horrid sin — and what 'a still worse, the troutda^ 



But Juan was a bachelor — Of arts. 

And parts, and hearts : be danced and sung, uid had 
An air as sentimental as Mozart's 

Softest of melodies ; and could be sad 
Or cheerful, without any " flaws or starts," 

Just at the ptopet time : and though a lad, 
Had seen the woiW— whwAi w ». cannua «i^ 
And wy much ttuMk* w\»A 'gw^''™**- 



CANTU Zl. DON JUAN. 



XLVm. 



Fair virgins blush'd upon him ; wedded dames 
Bloom M also in less transitory hues ; 

For both commodities dwell by the Thames, 
The painting and the painted ; youth, ceruse. 

Against his heart preforr'd their usual claims, 
Such as no gentleman can quite reiuse : 

Daughters admired his dress, and pious mothers 

Inquired liis income, and if he had brothers. 



XLIX. 

The milliners who furnish " drapery Misses "* 
Throughout the season, upon speculation 

Of payment ere tiie honey-moon's last kisses 
Have waned into a crescent's coruscation, 

Thoujjht such an opportimity as tiiis is. 
Of a rich foreigner's initiation, 

Not to l)c overlook'd, — and gave such credit. 

That future bridegrooms swore, and sigh'd, and paid it* 



L. 

The Blues, that tender trilxe, who sifjli o'er sonnets, 
And with the pages of the last Review 

Line the interior of thoir heads or bonnets. 
Advanced in all their azure's highest hue : 

Tiioy talk'd bad French or Spanish, and upon its 
Late authors askM him for a hint or two ; 

And which was softest, Russian or Castilian ? 

And whether in his travels he saw Ilion ? 



• " Drnpery Mi««e8." — This term is prwbably any thin^ now but a myntery. 
It was, liowcver, almopt so to mo when 1 f\rst rotiirned from the F^sl in 1811 — 
1812. It m«Muis a protty, a hiirli-horn, a fashionable yuime female, well instriot* 
ed by her frienrls, and furni»;hod by lier milliner with a wanlrobo upon credit, 
to be repaid, when mnrnni^hy ihc hut'wirifl. The riddle w?i8 first read 10 me by 
a yonn;{ !ind pretty hfircss, on n>y praivjui; the "<lrapery"of an ** wn/^xiAer- 
erf" but " pretty virginities " dike Mrs. \iiiie I*affe) of the th"n day, which has 
now been some years yestenlay : — she as-sured me that the tiling wwv. ^jftwwcvwv 
in liondon ; and as her own thousands, and VA«H>m\\\« \ooVa» \\\n^ T\e\\ "ssv^w^\v>Xn 
of array, put anr suspicion in her own case ou\ of xV\c <\\\e*\\otv,\ vm\\1^«»^ ^^ 
m}me credit U) the alloirntion. If neceasary, aul\\ohl\cii m\^VvvVv«i cv\<i^\ Ssiv;\>: 

CMM r could quote both " drapery " and liio woateta. \^v vu^ >n»v*^'^*'^^ 

itai. it IB now ohbohte. 



r 



Juan, wlio was a liille suporficuil. 

Anil uut in lileralure a grval Draw 
Examined by lliia learned and mpecta) 

Jiirv urnmtriina, scarc4i knew wtial to atuwer: 
Uis duties warlike, loving or official. 

His sleady npiilicaliun as a danger. 
Had kepi tiirn from (he brink of Hipjiocronek 
Which now be found wits blue imtead of green. 



However, he replied at hazard, with 
A modest confidence and calm nsMiraiicei 

Which lent hia learned lucubrations pith, 

And pass'H for argiimr'iits oT {rrniij emlurance. 

Tb.1 iiiuJi-y. .Miss AriiiiiliHEi Siiiilli. 

(Who at sixteen translated *' Hercules Furena** 
Into as furious English), with her best look. 
Set down bis nayings in her common-place book. 



Juan knew several languages — as well 

He might — and brought thero up with skill, in 

To save his fame with each acccimplish'd bell^ 
Who still regretted that he did not rhyme. 

I^erc wanted but this requisite to swell 
His qualities (with them) into sublime t 

Lady Fitz-Frisky, and Miss Mcevia Mannish, 

Both loBg'd extremely to be sung in Spanish. 



Howerer, he did pretty well, and was 

Admitted as an aspirant to all 
^le coteries, and, as in Banquo's glass, 
At great assemblies or in parties small 
He saw (en thousand living authors pass, 
That being about tbeii aveto^ numeral; 
Alao (he eighty " greatest Xrt'vtift ■?«««»" 
Am every paltry magazine <»» i&«f« *•- 



DON JUAN. 



871 



LV. 



In twice five years the ** greatest living poet," 
Like to the champion in the fisty ring, 

Is call'd on to support his claim, or show it, 
Although 't is an imaginary thing. 

Even I — albeit I 'm sure I did not know it, 
Nor sought of foolscap subjects to be king, — 

Was reckoned a considerable time, 

The grand Napoleon of the realms of rhyme. 



LVI. 

But Juan was my Moscow, and Faliero 

My Leipsic, and my Mont Saint Jean seems Cam: 
** Lii Belle Alliance " of dunces down at zero, 

Now that the Lion 's fall'n, may rise again : 
But I will fall at least as fell my hero ; 

Nor reign at all, or as a monarch reign ; 
Or to some lonely isle of gaolers go, 
With turncoat Southey for my turnkey Lowe. 



LVII. 



Sir Walter reign M before me ; Moore and CampteD 
Before and after ; but now grown more holy, 

The Muses upon Sion's hill must ramble 
With poets almost clergymen, or wholly ; 






* 
* 



* 
* 



* 
* 



* 
* 



Lvm. 



7. . ■ .. ■; ^ -■ ■.- -.- 




■ • . * • 


< 








* 




* 






* 




* 






* 




« 






* 




% 


* * 




« 




% 



» r ■ ••^" 



son JVAK. 



rhon tbere 'a my gentle Eupbiiw; who. they aBy, J 
Set! op for being a sort of moral me; 

He II find it rather difficult some dny 
To tarn out botb, or either, it may bo. 

Some peraona think that C«leridgu hnlh the sway ;. 
And Wardsworlli has supporters, two or threo; 

And thst de(>|).raoutb'd UicnfiuD "Siivngn Landor/V 

Has taken for a swan rogue Suutltey's gander. 



John KeatB, wtio was kili'd olTby one critique. 
Just aa ht' n>ally promitHrd Miaielliilig greal> 

If not inlriligililc'without tir«ek 

Contriv^tl tn tnik »lioiii rhe gmtn of late, 

Much as they might have been supposed to speak. 
Poor fellow ! His M'as an untoward fate ; 

T is stmnge the mind, that very fiery particle,* 

Should let itself be saufiTd out by an article. 



The list grows long of live and dead pretender* 

To that which none will gain — or none will know 

The conqueror at least , wh", ere Time renders 
His Inst award, will have the long grass grow 

Above his barnt-oat brain, and sapless cinders. 
If I miglit augur, I should rate but low 

Their chancer ; — they 're too numerous, like the thirty 

Mock tyrants, when Rome's annab wax'd hut dirty. 



Hiis is the Uterary Imeer empire. 

Where the praetbrimi bands take up the matter ; — 
A "dreadful trade," hke bis who '•gathers aamphin,** 

The insolent soldiery to soothe and Salter, 
With the same feelings as you 'd coax a vampira. 

Now, were I once at home, and in good satin, 
I 'd try conclusions with those Janizaries, 
And show them vhal (in \aXB\\MAM«.\ -w*! is. 




I tliinlt I know a trick or two, would turn 

Their flanks; — but it is hardly worth my whib 

With such sFTieitl gear to );ive myself concera: 
Iixleed 1 've not Iho necessary bile ; 

My naturHl tem|>cr 'a rciflly aught but stern. 
And even my Miise'a worst reproof 'a &• smile; 

And then lihe drops a brief and modern curtsy. 

And glides away, assured she never hurts ye. 



My Juan, whom I loft in deadly peril 

Amon^t live pocis and blue ludieM, pnss'd 

Will) some xmall profit ibroiigh thai fiisld so sterile. 
Bein>! tired in tiniu, and neitlicr Icust nor last, 

Lett it Iwforo he had been treated very ill ; 

And henceforth found himself more gaily class'd 

Atiiong.'tt the higher spirits of the day, 

The sun's true son, no vupour, but a ray. 



His mornH he pass'd in business — which disaectedf 
Warlike all business, a laborious nothing. 

That leads to lus.'^ituJc, the most infected 
And Centaur Nessus g^irb oT mortal clothing. 

And on our solas makes us lie ilejeclcd. 
And tulk in tender horrors of our loathing 

All kinds of toil, save for our country's good — 

Which grows no better, though 't is tiuie it ehould. 



His aflernoonB he pass'd in visits, luncheons, 
Lounfising, and boxing; and the twilight hour 

In riding round those vegetable puncheons 

Cnll'd "Parks." where there is neither fruit nor flower 

Enough to eratify a bee's slight muncUm^a'^ 
But alter all it is ihe^tnly " bowct" 

(la Moore's phrase) where the ta8\uon«.\Aft telvi 
Vua form a aUght acquaintance wVt\i Ci«)J(t «)ti. 




Then dnm, Ihon dioncr. then awakes the worid ! 

Then glaK ihe htmps, tlii'n whirl the wlwvls, ihen n 
TbfBUgh BtFBft rtnil -.I'l'irt.' ^i^l lli.-hin^ pl,.iriola huiT' 

Like hameea'd meteon ; then along the floor 
Cbalk iDJniics painting ; then festcKHM are twiii'd 

Then roll the hraxen thnnden of the dooi^ 
Which opens to the thoiuand ha|^v Aw 
An earthly Fandiie of " Or Hohi." 



There standa the noble hoateas, nor ritaD rink 

With the Ihree-thoiuandth eurtay; there tk «al^ 
Th« only dance which teaches girli to think, 

Mnkea one in loce even with its verv fnults. 
Saloon, room, liall, o'crliow iH-yond llit-ir brink. 

And long ihe lalost orurriviils halts, 
'Midal royal dukes and dailies condenin'd to climb^ 
And gain an inch of staircase al a lime. 



Thrice happy he who, after a survey 
Ot'the good coiiipany. can win a corner, 

A donr that 's tn or t>oiidoir ouf of the wav. 

Where he may fix himself like small ''Jack Horner," 

And let the Babel round run as it may. 
And look on as a mourner, or a scorner, 

Or an approver, or a mere spectator. 

Yawning a little as the night growd later. 



But this won't do, save by ond by ; and he 
Who, like Don Juan, takes an active share. 

Must steer with care through all that glittering eeft 
Of gems and plumes and pearls and silks, to where 

He deeuis it is his proper place to be ; 
Dissolving in the wslVU \.q bowui aaCt a.\t. 

Or proudlier prancing w"\tti meTcarwi *;& 
Wliere Science marsihaia foitti \«fct own. <]f>»&xi&A. 



OAV • XL DON JVA3K* ffil 



LXXI. 

Or, if ho dance not, but hatli higher views 
Upon an heiress or his neighbour's bride, 

Let him take care that that which he pursues 
Is not at once too palpably descried. 

Full many an eager gentleman oft rues 

Ills haste : impatience is a blundering guide 

Amongst a people famous for reflection, 

Who like to play the fool with circumspection* 



LXXII. 

But, if you can contrive, get next at supper ; 

Or, if forestalled, get opposite and ogle : — 
Oh, ye ambrosial moments ! always upper 

In mind, a sort of sentimental boijks 
Which sits for ever u|)on momorv's crupper. 

The jjliost of vanish'd pleasures once in vogue ! Ill 
Can tender souls relate the rise and fall 
Of hopes and fears which shake a single ball. 



LXXIII. 

But these precautionary hints can touch 
Only the common run, who must pursue. 

And watch, and ward ; wiiose plans a word too much 
Or little overturns; and not the few 

Or many (lor tlie nurnher 's sometimes such) 
Whom a good mien, especially if new, 

Of fauie, or name, for wit, war, sense, or nonsense, 

Permits whatever they please, or did not long since. 

LXXIV. 

Our hero, as a hero, young and handsome, 
Noble, rich, celebrated, and a stranger, 

Like other slaves of course must pay his ransom 
Before he can escape from so much danger 

As will environ a con^picuous man, So\tv^ 
Talk about /K)etry, and " racVi and uvaxi^^t J** 

And ugliness^ disease, as toi\ and ttouVA^ •, — 
/ wisb they knew the life of a youn^ iioV^e* 




Thn an yating, but know not jroullt — il is uitii 
HaDdMOH but wasted, rich withontii 



Tbeir rigour in & thousand arms is dis8i|wl«il ; 

Their eaah c.<!\\n'^ Jrom, ttieir wealth goes to a JvA ; 
Both aenales $ee lliuir nightly votes participated 

Betwaon tiie t^ rant's and Ilie tribuaes' crew ; 
And baring voted, dined, drank, ganteJ, and wbora^. 
The fiuniljr Tuult receives unutlicr lonl. 



* Wheie ia the world 1 " crlfs Young. o( tightm—" 
Thoworidin which n mnn was b«r»T" Ab»1 

Where ia the world or right years past T T IB 
I look for il — 't 1- tio'tf. u glube ofglna* ! 

Crack'd, shiver'd, vanisli'd, .scarcely gtized on, ere 
A silent change dissolves the glittering mass. 

Statesmen, chiels, oratory qiiccns, patriots, kings, 

And dandies, all are gone on the wind's wings. 



Where is Napoleon the Grand T God knows ; 

Where little Castlercagh T The devil can teQ : 
Where Grattan, Curran, Sheridnn. all those 

Who bound the bar or senate in their spell T 
Where ia the unhappy Queen, with all her woesT 

And where the Daughter, whom the Isles loved wcDt 
Were are those martyr'd saints the Five per Cents! 
And where — oh, where the devil are tite rents T 



Where *s Brummel t Dish'd, Where *s Long Pole Wei. 
lesley 1 Diddled. [Thiid 1 

Where 'a Whitbrend? RomillvT Where 's George tha 
Where is his will T (That >a not so soon unriddled.) 

And where is » Fum " the Fourth, our " royal bird I " 
Gone down, it seems, to Scotland to be fiddled 

Unio by Sawney's 'rvo\in, tie \«l1« Vwi«.t<l -. 
" Ca If IDB, caw thee " — tor «». mo^tta^ia.ftv'Vwstt'W^rtaa^ 
Tbia acene of royal it«h aad \o7»l sM»x«iia%. 



fiAjmo B. DOM jUAir. 377 



Where is Lord This t And where my Lady That? 

The Honourable Mistresses and Misses ^ 
Some laid aside like an old Opera hat, 

Married, unmarried, and re-married : (this is 
An evolution oft performed of late.) 

Where are the Dublin shouts — and London hisses t 
Where are the Grenvilles ? Turn'd, as usual. Whejre 
My friends the Whigs* Exactly where they were. 



LXXX* 

Where are the Lady Carolines and Franceses ? 

Divorced or doing thereanent. Ye annals 
So brilliant, where the list of routs and dances is, — 

Thou Morning Post, sole record of the panels 
Broken in carriages, and all the phantasies 

Of fashion, — say what streams now fill those channels t 
Some die, some fly, some languish on the Continent, 
Because the times have hardly left them one tenant. 



LXXXI. 

Some who once set their caps at cautious dukes, 

Have taken up at length with younger brothers : 
Some heiresses have bit at sharpers' hooks : [thers ; 

Some maids have been made wives, some merely mo- 
Others have lost their fresh and fairy looks : 

In short, the list of alterations bothers. 
There 's little strange in this, but something strange is 
The unusual quickness of these common changes, 

Lxxxn. 

Talk not of seventy years as age ; in seven 

I have seen more changes, down from monarchs to 

Tbe humblest individual under heaven, 

Than niiirht sufTice a moderate cenhiry through, 

I knew that nought was lasting, but now ^nv^w 

ChanL'e grows too changeable, m\.\\o\jA. >awcv^\iKS« \ 

Nought ^8 permanent among the Vvwidax^ t^c^ 
Except the Whigs not getUag into iB\a.ce. 




I hKn mn Kapoleon, who eeetn'd quitr a Jiipileri 
Shriok to a Sntnm. I hsve 9e«fi a Dt)kc> 

(No mattar which) turn politician fflitpidn-, 
Ifthftt eu) well be, tlian his wooden look. 

But it u time that I should hoisi my - bine F«lcr," 
And Nil for a new theine : — 1 have se^n — and s 

To ne it— the king hiiis'd, niid then caresa'd ; 

But do n't pretend lo aettle wliieb was best. 



I have «en the 

I haToaesn J 

The HouM of C 

I have seen II 
I have sect! crowns worn instead ofa fool's cap — • 

I have seen a Congress doing all that 's mean — 
I have seen some nations like o'erloaded asses 
Kick offtlieir burthens — meanin}; the high claaaok 



I have seen small poets, and great prosers, and 
Interminable — not eternal — speakers — 

I tiavc seen the funds at war with house and land— ■ 
1 have seen the cnuntrv genilctnen turn squeakers — 

I have seen the people riilden o'er like sand 

By slaves on horseback — I have seen malt liqiion 

Ezchang'd for " thin potations " by John Hull — 

I have seen John half detect hiniself a fool,— 



But " carpe diem," Juan, " carpe, carpe • " 

To-morrow sees another race as gay 
And transient, and devour'd by the same harpy. 

"Life 's a poor player," — then "play oul the pUjTt 
Ye villains ! " and, above all, keep a sharp eye 

JUucb lesa on what you do ttn.a wbat you sa^ : 
Be hypocritical, be caot\(«M, \i« 
Not wtut you «e«», bat nl^M* -"^"^-S^ •«*' 




DDK JUAlb 



But how shall I relate ia other cantos 
Of what befell our hero in the land. 

Which 't is the ccmr.ion cry and lie to vaunt aa 
A moral country 1 But 1 hold my hand — 

For I disdain to write an Atrtlunlis ; 
But 't is as well at once to understand 

You are not a moral people, and you know it 

Without the aid of too sincere a poet. 



What Juan saw and underwent shall be 

My topic, witli of course the due restriction 

Which is rctjiiircd l)v propor courtrsv ; 
And recollect the work is onlv liction. 

And Ihnt I sin;: of neither niino'nor me. 

Though every scribe, in some slight turn of dictioa, 

Will hint allusions never meant. Ne'er doubt 

This — when I speak) I do n't hint, but speak otU. 



Whether he married with the third or fourth 

OfF^pring of some sar;e husband-hunting countesi: 

Or whether witli some virgin of more worth 
(I mean in Fortunii's uiutrimoniul bounties) 

Hi! took (o regularly peopling Eiirlh, 

Ofwiiich your lawful awful wedlock fount is,— 

Or whether he was taken in for damages, 

For being too excursive in his homages, — 



Is yet within the unrend events of time. 
Thus fnr, go forth, thou lay, which I will back 

Agninst the same given ijuantilv of rhyme. 
For being as niiicli the su'ijeel of attack 

As ever yet was any work sublime. 

By those who Jove to say that wtoe \b \>\B.dfc. 

So macli (fie better ! — I may stand aXowe, 
/'«( <tn'ild not change my free IWougWa ?ot fcftsW^** 



DON J U i N. 



Cp all the Itarharous middle apes, that 

Which is most biirhnrouM is Ihe middle age 

Of miin ; it is — 1 rciilly scare; know wliat ; 
Ttiit wlii*n we hriViT lictwcen I'nol ntiH sngn. 

Ami do n't kn..w juMly whiit we wciulil lie nt — 
A |)i'riod suniclliini; like a printed piige, 

Black letter upon tbolscap, while nor hair 

Grows grizzled, nud we urc not what we wero;^ 



Too old for youth, — too voting, nt thirty-live. 

To herd with br)ys, or hoard with good threescore,^ 

I wonder people should Im; left nlivfi ; 

But since Ihey an', Ihnl cpnch is u bore; 

Love linjrcru utiJI, alihoiigh 't were kilo to wivo ; 
And iiH fur other love, "the illusion 'a o'er ; 

And money, that most pure imuginalion. 

Gleams only through the dawn ol' its creation. 



O Gold ! Whv call we misers miserable? 

Theirs is the pleasiirv that con never pall ; 
Theirs is llic hest hower anchor, the chain cabl't 

Which hokU last olhi-r pleasures preiit and smalt. 
Ye who but nev Ihe ttnving man at liihle, 

And scum his lem[N!rate bo&rd, aa nan« aV iC&t 
And wonder bow tlic wealthy can \»e *.p»Tm?,, 
Know not what visions spring Etom e&c'b <:;\\e«&^^'t^nV 



DON JUAif* cuno 



IV. 



Love or lust makes man sick, and wine much sicker ; 

Ambition rends, and gamins: gains a loss ; 
But making money, slowly first, then quicker. 

And addin<r still a little through each cross 
(Which will come over things), beats love or liquor. 

The gamester's counter, or the statesman's dross. 
O Gold ! I still prefer thee unto paper. 
Which makes bank credit like a bark of vapour. 



V. 

Who hold the balance of the world ? Who reign 
O'er congress, whether royalist or liberal ? 

Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? 

(That make old Europe's journals squeak and gibber all.) 

Who kt'op tho world, both old and new, in pain 

Or i^loasure ? Who make politics run "libber all? 
riio jshadc of Buonaparte's noble daring? — 
Jew Rothschild, and his fellow-Christian, Baring, 



'r^ 



VI. 



'1^ 



rhoso, and the truly lil)eral Lafitte, 

Art^ the true lords of Europe. Every loan 

Is not a nuMvly sj>oculative hit. 

Hut seats a nation or upsets a throne. 

Ue|Mil»liiv< also ^ivt involved a hit; 

Cohnnhia's slock hath holders not unknown 

On 'Change ; and oven thy silver soil, Peru, 

Must got itself discounted by a Jew. 



vu. 

W^hy call the miser miserable ? as 

I said l)oforc^ : the frugal life is his, 
Which in a saint or cynic ever was 

The theme of praise : a hernnt would not miss 
Canonization for the self-saine cause. 

And when;fore blame gaunt wealth's austerities? 
Because, you '11 say, nought calls for such a trial ;• 
Then there 's more' merit in his self-denial. 



CUMT0 30L DOH JUAIf- 



vin. 



ITe is your only poet ; — passion, pure 
And sparkling on from heap to heap, displays, 

Possess*d^ the oie, of which mere hopes allure 
Nations utliwart the deep : the golden rays 

Flash up in ingots from the mine obscure ; 
On him the diamond pours its brilliant blaze ; 

While the mild emerald's beam shades down the dyei 

Of other stones, to soothe the miser's eyes. 



iz. 



The lands on either side are his : the ship 
From Ceylon, Inde, or far Cathay, unloads 

For him the fragrant produce of each trip; 
Bwieath his cars of Ceres groan the roads, 

And the vine blushes like Aurora's lip ; 
His very cellars might be kings' abodes ; 

While he, despising every sensual call. 

Commands — the intellectual lord of all. 



Perhaps he hath great projects in his mind, 
To build a college, or to found a race, 

A hospital, a church, — and leave behind 
Some (loujc surmounted by his meagre face : 

Perhaps he fain would lil)erate mankind 

Even with the very ore which makes them base ; 

Perhaps he would be wealthiest of his nation, 

Or roel in the joys of calculation. 



XI. 

But whether all, or each, or none of these 

May be the hoarder's principle of action. 
The fool will call such mania a disease : — 

What is his oum 7 Go — look at each transaction, 
Wars, revels, loves — do these bring men more ease 

Than the mere plodding through each" N\j\^at ^t^OCvs^\ 
Or do they bene^t mankind 1 lieaii mKafcxX 
Let apendthriftB* heirs inquire of -youcs — Hi\io''%Nn»Kt'^ 



DOif JUAK« ourro: 



xn. 



liow beauteous are rouleaus ! how charming chests 
Containing ingots, bags of dollars, coins 

(Not of old victors, all whose heads and crests 

Weijijh not the thin ore where their visage shines, 

But) of fine unclippM gold, where dully rests 

Some likeness, which the glittering cirque confiaeSy 

Of modern, reigning, sterling, stupid stamp : — 

Yes ! ready money is Aladdin's lamp. 



XIII. 

•• Love rules the camp, the court, the grove," — ** for love 
Is heaven, and heaven is love : " — so sings the bard ; 

Which it were rather difficult to prove 
(A thing with poetry in genoral hard). 

Perhaps tlicre may he something in " the grove," 
At h'ast it rliym(\s to " lovi» ;" hut I 'm |)re|>arcd 

To douht (no less than landlords of their rental) 

If" courts " and " camps " be quite so sentimental. 



XIV. 

But if Love do n't. Cash does, and Cash alone : 
Cash rules the grove, and fells it ttM) besides; 

Without cash, camps were thin, and courts were none; 
Without cash, Mai thus tells you — ** take no brides." 

So Cash rules Love the rul<^r, on his own 

Hijxh ijroiind, as vir«]:in Cvnthia swnvs the tides: 

And as for " Heaven being Love," why not say honey 

Is wax t Heaven is not Love, 't is ?»Iatrimony. 



XV. 

Is not all love prohibited whatever. 

Excepting marriage ? which is love, no doubt, 

AftrT a sort ; but somehow people m^ver 

With the same thought the two words have help'd oat I 

Love may exist trith marring^, and should ever. 
And marriage also may exist without ; 

But love sans bans is both a sin and shame. 

And ought to go by quite another name. 



^ANTOXIl DO^ JVAH. 886 



XVI 

Now if the ** court," and " camp," and " grove," be not 
Recruited all with constant married men 

Who never coveted their neighbour's lot, 
I say thai line 's a lapsus of the pen ; -^ 

Strange too in my " buon camerado " Scott, 
So celebrated for his morals, when 

My Jeflrey held him up as an example 

To me ; — of which these morals are a sample. 



xvu. 

• Well, if I do n't succeed, I haoe succeeded. 

And that 's enough ; succeeded in my youth, 
The only time when much success is needed : 
And my success produced what I, in sooth. 
Cared most about ; it need not now be pleaded — « 

Wliate'er it was, 't was mine ; I 've paid, in truth. 
Of late, the penalty of such success. 
But have not learn'd to wish it any less. 

,« 
xviii. 

That suit in Chancery, — which some persons plead 

In an appeal to the unborn, whom they ; 
In the faith of their procreative creed. 

Baptize posterity, or future clay, — 
To me seenis but a dubious kind of reed 

To lean on for support in any way ; 
Since odds are that posterity will know 
No more of them, than they of her, I trow. 

XIX. 

Why, I 'm posterity — and so are you ; 

And whom do we remember ? Not a hundred. 
Were every memory written down all true. 

The tenth or twentieth name would be but blunder'd ; 
Even Plutarch's Lives have but pick'd out a few. 

And 'gainst those few your annalists have thunder'd; 
And Mitford in the nineteenth centurv' 
Gives, with Greek truth, the good old Greek the lie. * 

• See M. i'Ford'b Greece. ** GriDcia Verox!" Hia jp^nt pleasure corwisti in 
praisiiicr tyrants, nbutiiriff Flntarch, fpcllinf! otldlv, nnd wntinjs^ qunintly : and 
«*hat is stranpe, after all, hi» is the boet modem fiistory of C^t^^^^ vcv %.\o5 \wv- 
guoge, ami he ia pcrhapH the best of all modem \\\siohM\*N'!\v«XWi*iN^t. Viv^xw^ 
named hi« w/w, a ia but fair to state hi» vVtluea — \««mAXv%A«^»^^'»^*'^^'''2l 
urath, and partiality. 1 call the latter virtues vn % "VifiMBt, \»c«xtt» va*'^ '««*^ 
bJm wiite ia eameaL 




Good poople alt, of every degree. 

T« gumib readers and uogenUe wrilerBi 
In thu fWoUth Canto 't is my wish to bo 

Aa Mrioua a!< if 1 had fur ' 
Malthoi aad WJIberforce : — iho last Mt free 1 

The Nwtocs, and is worlh a million 6aMeni~^ 
While WflBDgtun has kil en«lared the Wliil 
And *'■'*"- (JOBS (he thing 'gainst which hu irritei* 



Am) wfaj bIiouM I II 
And boldnp to iho sui 

Mankind Just now a 
On constitutions and steam-boats of vapour ; 

While sages write against all procreation, 
Unless a man can calculate his means 
Of feeding bmta tbe moment his wife weuu. 



That 's noMe ! That 's romantic ! For my pert, 
I think that " Philo-genitivcnesa "is — 

(Now here 's a word quite after my own heart. 
Though there 's a shorter a good deal than ihi^ 

If that politeness set it not apart ; 

But I 'm resolved to say nought that 's amln)— 

I say, methinks that " Philo-genitiveness " 

Might meet from men a little more forgLTenosi, 



And now to bosineae. — O my gentle Juan 1 

Thou art in London — in that pleasant [daoe 
Where every kind of mischief 's dally brewing 

Which can await warm youth in its wild laoe^ 
T is true, that thy career is not a new onO; 
Tbou art no novice \n ti» heaiUoaf^ chaaa 
Ofdnriylife; but this iB a. new WiA, 
WlucU foreignera can ttewei undmrtwii. 




What with a small diversity of climate, 

or hot or cold, Diercurial or aedate, 
I could seod fortli my mandate like a primate, 

Upon the rest of Euvope's social state ; 
But thou art the most difficult to rhyme at, 

Great Britain, which llie Muse may penetrate- 
All countries have their " Lions," but in thee 
There U but one superb menagerie. 



But I am sick of politics. Begin, 

" Paulo Majora." Juan, undecided 
Amongst Ihc paths of being " taken in," 

Aliuve the ice had like a skater glided : 
Whnn lircd of pluy, he flirted without sin 

With some of those fuLr ci-eniures who have prided 
Themselves on innocent tanialisation, 
And hate all vice except itH reputation. 



But these are few, and in the end they make 
Some devilish escapade or stir, which shows 

That even the purest people may mistake 

Their way through virtue's primro^ paths of snows; 

And then men slare, as if a new ass dpake 
To Balaam, and from tongue to ear o'erflows 

Quicksilver small talk, ending (if you note it) [it t ** 

With the kind world's omen — " Who would have thought 



The little Leila, with her orient eyee, 

And taciturn Asiatic disposition, 
(Which saw all western things with small surpnae^ 

To the surprise of people of condition. 
Who think thni novelties are butterfliea 

To be pursued as food for intiniXion,'^ 

Her charming ligure and romanttc hiaVor) 

" eaJund of foshionabte mastery. 



DOn JVAll'* 



zznn. 



The women much divided— as is mini 
Amongst the sex in little things or great. 

Think not, fair creatures, that I mean to abnae yoa iB 
I have always liked you better than I state: 

Since I Ve grown moral, still I must accuse joa all 
Of being apt to talk at a great rate ; 

And now there was a general sensation 

Amongst you, about Leila's education. 



In one point only were you settled-* and 

You had reason ; 't was that a young child o( griflo 

As beautiful as her own native land, 

And far away, tho last ImkI of her race, 
Uowe'or our friend Dun Juan niiLrht command 

Himself for five, four, three, or two years' space, 
Would l)e mueh l>etter tau»rht l>eneath the eve 
Of peeresses whose follies had run dry. 



XXX. 

So first there was a generous emulation. 
And then there was a ^neral competition 

To undertake the orphan's education. 
As Juan was a person of condition, 

It had been an affront on this occasion 
To talk of a subscription or petition; 

But sixteen dowagers, ten unwed she sages. 

Whose tale belongs to *' flallam's Middle Ages,** 



XXXI. 

And one or two sad, separate wives, without 

A fruit to bloom upon their withering bough — 
Begged to bring up the little girl, and ** oil/," — 

For that 's the phrase that settles all things noWy 
Meaning a virgin's first blush at a rout, 
And all her points as l\\otov\«Vv-V^T5id Vo «W^^ •. 
And I assure you, thatWke v'ltwvxi Vvone;^ 
Tastes their first season (jnoaWy '\^ iWj >aa.N^ ifis»cf<s\ 



cAvro zo. 



DON JUAN. 88fl 



xxxn. 



How all the needy honourable misters, 

Each out-at-elbow peer» or desperate dandy. 

The watchful mothers, and the careful sisters, 
(Who, by the by, when clever, are more handy 

At making matches, where *' 't is gold that glisters," 
Than their he relatives,) like flies o'er candy. 

Buzz round " the Fortune " with their busy battery. 

To turn her head with waltzing and with flattery ! 



xxxm. 

Each, aunt, each cousin, hath her speculation ; 

Nay, married damca will now and then discover 
Such pure disinterestedness of passion, 

I 've known them court an heiress for their love • 
" Tantaene ! " Such the virtues of high station, 

Even in the hopeful Isle, wliose outlet 's "Dover! " 
While the poor rich wretch, object of these cares. 
Has cause to wish her sire had had male heirs 



XXXIV. 

Some are soon bagg'd, and some reject three dozen. 

'T is flne to see them scattering refusals 
And wild dismay o'er every angry cousin 

(Friends of the party), who begin accusals 
Such as — " Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen 

Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals 
To his billets ? Why waltz with him ? Why, I pray, 
Look yes lost night, and yet say no to^ay ? 



XXXV. 

** Why ? — Why ? — Besides, Fred really was attached ; 

'T was not her fortune — he has enough without : 
The time will come she '11 wish that she had snatch'd 

So good an opportunity, no doubt : — 
But tbe old marchioness some plan had UoAx^V^^ 

As I 'Ji telJ Aurca at lo-mortovi^s tovil \ 
And after all poor Frederick may do \»\X«t — 
Prajr did yoa aee her answer to Vuft \a\tos V^ 



DOX JDAN. 



Smart uniforms and spnrMing coronets 
Are Bpurn'd in turn, until her turn arrives. 

Af^er male loss of lime, and hearts, and beta 
Upon the sweepstakes for subatanlial wives - 

And when at last the pretty creature gets 

Soma gentleman, who f ' r vrrites, or drive* 

It soothes the awkward s<i the rejected 

To find bow very badly al ted. 



For sometimes they acvi^, long pursiHir, 

Worn <<ijl will) impoHu ir fall 

(Bill h' I - idiis we fewer) 

Tn I ., . .ca. iur»Li<!d at all. 

(If 't is not vain examples to recall) 
To draw a high prize : now, howe'er he got ber, I 
See nought more strange in this than t' other lolteiy 



I, for my part — (one " roodern instance " more, 
" True, 'I is a pity — pity 't is, 't is true ") 

Was chosen from out an amatory score, 

Albeit my years were less discreet than few ; 

But though f also had re form *d before 

Those became one who soon were to be two, 

I '11 not gainsay the generous public's voice. 

That the young lady made a monstrous choice. 



Ob, pardon my digression — or at least 
Peruse ! T is always with a moral end 

rniat I dissert, like grace before a feast : 
For like an aged aunt, or tiresome £rieD^ 

A rigid guardian, or a zealous pricet, 
My Huae by exhortation means to mend 

All people, at all times, and in most places, 

Wbicb jnita my Peg«Bus to th»n ^n.'Vtt \mimu 




IK>H TTAII. 



But now I 'm going to be immoral ; now 
I mean to show things really as they are, 

Not aa they ought to be : for I avow. 

That tili we see what 's what in fact, we 're far 

From much improvement with that virtuous plnu^ 
Which skims the surface, leaving scarce a scar 

Ujion the black loam long manured by Vice, 

Only to keep its corn at the old price. 



But first of little Leila we 'II dispose; 

For hkc a Hiiv-ilawn she wiia young and pure. 
Or lik(> the old comparison of miiows. 

Which are inore ptiii; tliiin pleasant to be sure. 
Likfl many people every hody knows, 

Don Juan was delighted to secure 
A goodly guurdian for his infant charge. 
Who might not profit much by being at large. 



Besides, he had found out he was no tutor 
(I wish that others would find out the same) ; 

And rather ivish'd in such things to stand neuter. 
For silly wards will bring their guardians blame : 

So when he saw euch ancient dame a suitor 
To make his little wild Asiatic tame, 

Consulting " the Society for Vice 

Suppression," Lady Pinchbeck was his choice. 



Olden she was — but had been very young; 

Virtuous she was — and had been, I believe ; 
Although the world has such an evil tongue 

Xhat — but my chsister cnr will not receive 
An echo of a syllable that 's wtoTi%*. 

Jn foc(, there 's nothing mftVi.e8 n» »o itom^\ ^na^*» 
As thai abominable titlle-tatt\e. 
Which ia the cud eschew'd by \i\unn.ii ca.V&«- 



393 DON JUAN* CAMTO I& 



XLIV. 

Moreover I Ve*remark'd (and I was once 
A slight observer in a modest way). 

And so may every one except a dunce. 
That ladies in their youth a little gay. 

Besides their knowledge of the world, and sense 
Of the sad consequence of going astray, 

Are wiser in their warnings 'gainst the woe 

Which the mere passionless can never know. 



XLV. 

While the harsh prude indemnifies her virtue 
By railing at the unknown and envied passion^ 

Seeking far less to save you than to hurt you, 

Or, what 's still worse, to put you out of fashion,— 

The kinder veteran with calm words will court you, 
Entreating you to pause before you dash on ; 

Expounding and illustrating the riddle 

Of epic Love's beginning, end, and middle. 



XL VI. 

Now whether it l)e thus, or that they are stricter, 
As better knowinjr why they should Im so, 

I think you '11 find from miny a iainily picture. 
That dau<rhters of such motliors as may know 

The work! by exp(»rience rather than by lecture. 
Turn out much better for the Smitlili«;ld Show 

Of vestals brought into the marriage mart, 

Than those bred up by prudes without a heart. 



XLVII. 

I said that Lady Pinchl)eck had l>cen talk'd about— 
As who has not, if female, young, and pretty? 

Bit now no more the ghost of Scandal stalk'd about; 
She merelv was deem'd amiable and witty. 

And several of her best bon-mots were hawk'd about: 
Then she was given to charity and pity, 

And pass'd (at least tlie latter years of life) 

For being a most exemplary wife. 




High in high circles, gentle in her owd. 
She was the mild reprover of the young 

Whenever — which me^inu every day — they 'd shown 
An awkward inclination to go wrong. 

The quantity of good she did 's unknown. 
Or at the least would lengthen out my soDg: 

In brief, the httle orphan of the East 

Had raised an interest in her, which iacreased. 



Juan, too, was a sort of favourite with her. 

Because she Ihottght him a good heart at bottom, 

A little spojl'd, lint not so altogether; 

Which was a Honder, ifyou think who gol him. 

And how he had been tosa'd, he scnrcc knew whither 1 
Though this might ruin others, it did itot him, 

At least entirely — for he had seen loo many 

Ctianges in youth, to be surprised at any. 



AnrI these vicissitudes tell best in youth ; 

For when they happnn at a riper age, 
People are npt to blame the Fates, forsooth, 

And wondi-r Providence is not cnoro sage. 
Adversity is the lirst path to (ruth : 

lie who l^alh proved war, storm, or woman's rage, 
Whether his winters ))e eighteen or eighty, 
Hath won the experience which is deem'd so weighty. 



How far it profits is another matter.— 
Our hero gladly saw his little charge 

Safe with a lady, whose lost grown.up daughtar 
Being long married, and thus set at lnrg», 

Ilad left all the accomiilishments she taught her 
To be transmitted, tike tlic Lord W&'iM'ft\».t^fci 

To the next comer ; or — ab "vt wVft teW 
JUore Mase.Hke — like to Cythcte&'a «\i^. 



AM Doir jUAif. 



Ln 



I call such tiling transmission ; for there in 
A floating balance of accomplishment 

Which forms a pedigree from Miss to Miss, 
According as their minds or backs are bent* 

Some waltz ; some draw ; some fathom the abyw 
Of metaphysics ; others are content 

With music ; the most moderate shine as wits ; 

While others have a genius turn'd for fits. 



Lni. 

But whether fits, or wits, or harpsichords. 

Theology, fine arts, or finer stays, 
May be the baits for gentlemen or lords 

With regular descent, in these our days. 
The last voar to tlie new transfijrs its hoards : 

New vostiils chiiin men's eyes with the same praise 
Of ** elegant " et C(Ftera, in trcsh batciies — 
All matchless creatures, and yet bent on matches 



LIV. 

But now I will begin my poem. T is 
Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new, 

That from the first of Cantos up to this 

I 've not bciguu what we have to go through. 

The first twelve books are merely fiourisiies, 
Preludios, trying just a string or two 

Upon my lyre, or making the {)egs sure ; 

And when so, you shall have the overture* 



LV. 

My Mjses do not care a pinch of rosin 

About what 's calPd success, or not succeeding : 

Such thoughts are quite below the strain they 've chosea 
'T is a " great moral lesson " tiiey are reading. 

I thought, at setting olF, about two dozen 
Cantos would do ; but at Apollo's pleading. 

If that my Pegasus should not be founder'd, 

I think to canter greatly through a hundred* 



CANTO Xir. DOH JUAH. 



LVI. 



Don Juan saw that microcosm on stilts. 
Yclept the Great World ; for it is the least. 

Although the highest : but as swords have hilts 
By which their power of mischief is increased 

When man in battle or in quarrel tilts, 

Thus the low world, north, south, or west, or east. 

Must still obey the high — which is their handle. 

Their moon, their sun, their gas, their farthing candle. 



Lvn. 

He had many friends who had many wives, and was 
Well looked upon by both, to that extent 

Of friendship which you may accept or pass. 
It does nor good nor harm ; being merely meant 

To keep the wheels going of the higher class, 
And draw them nightly when a ticket 's sent : 

And what with masquerades, and f(§tes, and balls, 

For the first season such a life scarce palls. 



Lvm. 

A young unmarried man, with a good name 
And fortune, has an awkward part to play ; 

For good society is but a game, 

" Tlie royal game of Goose," as I may say, 

Where every body has some separate aim. 
An end to answer, or a plan to lay — 

The single ladies wishing to be double. 

The married ones to save the virgins trouble. 



LIX. 



I do n't mean this as general, but particular 
Examples may be found of such pursuits : 

Though several also keep their perpendicular 
Like poplars, with good principles for roots ; 

Yet many have a method more reticular — 

" Fishers for men," like sirens vritVv wo^\vi\«i\ 

For talk six times with the same sin^e \^^y ^ 
And you may get the weddin^-drcssew T«i«A>f . 



806 DON JUAN. 



LX. 



Perhaps you '11 have a letter from the mother. 
To say her daughter's feelings are trepann'd ; 

Perhups you '11 have a visit from the brother. 
All strut, and stays, and whiskers, to demand 

What "your intentions art^?" — One way or other 
It seems the virgin's heart expects your hand : 

And between pity for her case and 3'our8y 

You '11 add to Matrimony's list of cures. 



LXI. 

1 've known a dozen weddings made even thtUf 

And some of tliem high names : I have also known 

Young men who — though they hated to discuss 

Pretensions which they never dream'd to have shown 

Yol neither frightonM by a female fuss, 

Nor by mustacliios moved, were let alone, 
And lived, as did the broken-hearted fair. 
In happier plight than if they form'd a pair. 



LXII. 

There 's also nightly, to the uninitiated, 
A peril — not indeed like love or marriage, 

But not the less for this to be depreciated : 
It is — I meant and mean not to disparage 

The show of virtue even in the vitiated — 

It adds an outward grace unto their carriage — 

But to denounce tlic amphibious sort of harlot, 

" Couleur de rose," who 's neither white nor scarlet. 



LXIII. 

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say " No," 
And won't say ** Yes," and keeps you on and ofT-ing, 

On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow — 

Th(m sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing. 

This works a world of sentimental woe. 

And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin : 

But yet is menily innocent flirtation, 

Not quite adultery, but adviKcrvvlvoiv, 



CAMTO ZIL 



DOM JUAN. 807 



LXIV. 



^ Ye godsy I grow a talker ! " Let us prate. 

The next of perils, though I place it stemeatf 
Is when, without regard to ^ church or state," 

A wife makes or takes love in upright earnest. 
Abroad, such things decide few women's fate — 

(Such, early traveller! is the truth thou learnest) 
But in old England, when a young bride errs, 
Poor thing ! Eve's was a trimng case to heis. 



LXV. 

For 't is a low, newspaper, humdrum, lawsuit 
Country, where a young couple of the same ages 

Can't form a friendship, but the world o'erawes it. 
Then there 's the vulgar trick of those d — d damages ! 

A verdict — grievous foe to those who cause it ! — 
Forms a sad climax to romantic homages ; 

Besides those soothing speeches of the pleaders, 

And evidences which regale all readers. 

LXVI. 

But they who blunder thus are raw beginners ; 

A little genial sprinkling of hypocrisy 
Has saved the fame of thousand splendid sinners. 

The loveliest oligarchs of our gynocracy ; 
You may see such at all the balls and dinnerSy 

Among the proudest of our aristocracy. 
So gentle, charming, charitable, chaste — 
And all by having tact as well as taste. 



Lxvn. 

Juan, who did not stand in the predicament 
Of a mere novice, had one safeguard more ; 

For he was sick no, 't was not the word sick I meant— 

But he had seen so much good love before 

That he was not in heart so very weBik; — \ \SiCAXk\. 
But thus tnuchf and no sneer agii\T\«\. iW i^\Qt« 

Of white cUffa, white necks, blue eyes, VAxiex «\oc>Baw^^ 
TOims, taxes, duns, and doors vrilVi daa>a\e Vt^oc^rxt^* 



IfM DOlf JUAIf. 



But coming young from lands and scenes romantic^ 
Where lives, not lawsuits, must be risk'd for ~ 

And Passion's self must have a spice of frantic. 
Into a country where 't is half a fashion. 

Scem'd tc him half commercini, half [Hsdanticy 
Howe'er he might esteem this moral nation : 

Besides (alas ! his taste — forgive and pity !) 

At first he did not think the women pretty. 



LXEI. 

I say Biijirst — for he found out at lasU 
But hy degrees, that they were fairer far 

Tiuin the more glowing dames whose lot is cast 
Bone.ith the intiiicncc of the eastern star. 

A I'lirther proof we sliouhl not jtulge in haste ; 
Yot iofxptTionce coald not be liis bar 

To l;istc : — the triitli is, it* men would confess. 

That now iihics please less than they impress. 



ff^ 



LXX. 

Though travcird, I have never had the luck to 
Trac(.» u|) those sbufiling ne;iroos, Nile or Niger, 

To that impracticable place, Timbiictoo, 

Wlicre (irograpby liruls no one to oblige her 

With such a chart as may be safely stuck to — 
For Kiirope ploughs in Afric like *' bos piger:** 

But if I had been at Tiinbucto(^, there 

No doubt I should be told that black is fair. 



Lxxr. 

It is. I will not swear that black is white ; 

But I suspect in fact that white is black, 
And the wbolo niatter rests upon eve->iidit. 

Ask a blind man, the best JMd;ro. You '11 attack 
Perhaps this new position — l):it 1 'm riiihi : 

Or if I 'm wrong, I 'II not lw» ta'en abick: — 
He hath no morn nor nigbt, but all is dark 
Within ; and what seest thou? A dubious spark. 



QAMTon. DON JTAIf. 899 



But I 'm relapsing into metaphysics. 

That labyrinth, whose clue is of the same 

Construction as your cures for hectic phthisics. 
Those bright moths fluttering round a dying flame ; 

And this reRection brings me to plain physics, 
And to the beauties of a foreign dame, 

Compared with those of our pure pearls of price. 

Those Polar summers, all sun, and some ice. 



Lxxin. 

Or say they are like virtuous mermaids, whose 
Beginnings arc fair faces, ends mere fishes;—- 

Not that there 's not a quantity of those 

Who have a due respect for their own wishes. 

Like Russians riisliing from hot baths to snows * 
Arc they, at bottom virtuous even when vicious : 

Tiiey warm into a scrape, but keep of course. 

As a reserve, a plunge into remorse. 

Lxxrv. 

But this has nou<;ht to do with their outsides 

I said that Juan did not think them pretty 
At the first hhish ; for a fair Briton hides 

Half her attractions — probably from pity — 
And rather cahiily into the heart glides, 

Tlian storms it as a foe would take a city ; 
But once there (if you doubt this, prithee try) 
She keeps it for you like a true ally. 

LXXV. 

She cannot step as- docs an Arab barb. 

Or Andalusian girl from mass returning, 
Nor wear as gracefully as Gauls her garb. 

Nor in her eye Ausonia's glance is burning ; 
Her voice, tiiough sweet, is not so fit to warn. 

le those bravuras (which I still am learning 
To like, though 1 have been seven years in Italy, 
And have, or had, an ear that served wui i^xe\.\\Vj'^\— > 

• TTie Riumant, u is well known, run out from iheVt Vo\>a%Ji\»\o^Wg^^^^ 
9 Neva : a pleaaaat pncdcal aoutheins, whieVk a weiAft Ao«* >S^*m w* i»s^- 



She cannot do these things, nor onn or two 
Others, m that off-hnrtd and dashing slfle 

Which takes so much — to girs the devil hut dna } 
Nor is she quite so ready with her emile, 

Nor settles all things in one interview, 

(A thing approv^ as sav. oo and toil) ; — 

But though the soil may gir< time i ' ' * * 

WeU cultivated, it will rendi ble. 



And if in fact she tol mile paaaion," 

It is a very Bcriuui I : 

Nine times 'm ten 't is oi i or fashion. 

Coquetry, or o wish to tni,,^ ,.,t lend, 
Tbe pride of a mere child with a new sash on. 

Or wish to make a rival's bosom bleed : 
But (he tenth inslaace will be a tornado, 
For there 's no saying what they will or may do. 



The reason '■ obvious ; if there 's an <c)a^ 

They lose their caste at once, as do the Fariu; 

And when tbe delicacies of the law 

Have fiU'd their papers with their comments vuioa% 

Society, that china without flaw, 

(The hypocrite !) will banish them lik« Marine 

To lit amidst the ruins of their guilt : * 

For Fame *s a Carthage not bo soon rebuilt. 



Perhaps this is as it sbouM be ; — it is 

A comment on the Gospel's " Sia no mon, 
And be thy sins forgiven : " — but upon this 
I leave tbe saints to settle their own eettm. 
Abroad, though doubtleos tbey do mueh.aiiiti% 

Ad erring woman finds an opener door 
For ber retom to Virtae — aa^&M^j tafflk 
Tbt ]mdy who dbixU be al^xvnw u> if&. 



CABTO SL DOSr JVAR. 401 



For me, I leare the matter where I find it. 
Knowing thut such uneasy virtue leads 

People some ten times less in fact to mind it. 
And care but for discoveries and not deeds. 

And as for chastity, you '11 never bind it 
By all the laws the strictest lawyer pleads, 

But aggravate the crime you have not prevented. 

By rendering desperate those who had else repented* 



But Juan was no casuist, nor had ponderM 

Upon the moral lessons of mankind : 
Besides, he had not seen of several hundred 

A lady altogether to his mind. 
A little " blas6 " — *t is not to be wonder'd 

At, that his heart had got a tougher rind : 
And though not vainer from his past success, 
No doubt bis sensibilities were less. 

LXXXII. 

He also had been bu^ seeing sights — 
The Parliament and all the other houses ; 

Had sat beneath the gallery at nights. 

To hear debates whose thunder roused (not ratises) 

The world to gaze upon those northern lights * 

Which flash'd as far as where the musk-bull browses ; 

He had also stood at times l>ehind the throne — 

But Grey was not arrived, and Chatham gone. 

Lxxxm. 

He saw, however, at the closing session, 

That noble sight, when reaUy free the nation, 

A king in constitutional possession 

Of such a throne as is the proudest station, 

Though despots know it not — till the progression 
Of freedom shall complete their education. 

*T is not mere splendour makes the show august 

To eye or heart — it is the people's trust, 

• For a dencription and print of thii inhabitant oC \\i« w^ki t^^amw^jjr' 
e^antry of the Auran Boroalub tee P^aaT^a Voyage in ScorcK <J a N«« 




DOK JVAX. 



'nem, loo^ he saw (wbote'er be. may bo bow) 
A Prince, the prince of princes at tbe time. 

With ftaciniklion in his very bow. 

And Tun of promise, as llie spring of prime. 

Though royalty waa writtsD on his hrov, 
He had tkm the grao^ too, ran in vnty cttpMh' 

Ofbeii ■■ » -- 



I 



IDS, Wl 



ne gTBO^ too, ran in sn 
it w>y otbfot htmu. 



And Joan «m tauinB, aa hath bean w4 

Into the heat aocie^ : and (hen , . 

Occurr'd what oflcD happen^ I ^b afraid) ' 

Howerer diaeiidined and driKnuain : ^ ' 

Tbe talent and good faniDoar be diiplaj^ ' 

Besides the mark'd distinction of his air. 

Exposed liiiu, as was natural, to temptation. 

Even though himself avoided the occasion. 

But what, and where, with whom, and when, and why. 

Is not to he put hastily together; 
And as my ohject is morality 

{Whatever people say), I do n't know whether 
I '11 leave a single reader's eyelid dry. 

But harrow up hia feelings till they wither, 
And hew out a huge moniimcnl of pathos, 
As Philip's son proposed to do with Athos. • 



Here the twelfth Canto of our introduction 
Ends. When the body of the book '■ begun. 

Ton '11 find it of a different construction 

From what some people say 't wilt be when dona: 

The plan at present 's simply in concoction, 
I can't oblige you, reader, to read on ; 

That 's your aflair, not mine : a real spirit 

Should neither court neglect, nor dread to bear it. 

* A •eulptor projeclsd to haw Moonl Alhoa mto ■ ■time of Alanadn', w 
tUf in nnt hand, and, Ibetove, &ni««i>umv>><:^tV''*'^'*™'"'"'*''^'*> 




DOIT JVAlf. 



And if my thunderbolt not always rattles. 
Remember, reader ! you have had before 

The worst of tempests and the best of battiea 
That e*er were brew'd from elements or gore, 

B<!side8 the most sublime of — Heaven knows what aloo ) 
An- usurer could scarce expect much more — 

But my best canto, save one on astronomy. 

Will turn upon " political economy." 



J^a is your present theme for popularity : 
Now that the public hedge hath scarce a stoke, 

It grows an act of patriotic charity. 

To show the people the best way to break. 

My plan (but I, if but for singularity. 
Reserve it) will be very sure to take. 

Meantime, rend all the national debt-sinkers, 

And tell me what you think of your great thinkers. 



DON JUAN. 



OANTO TUB THIRTEBNTB. 



I. 

I NOW mean to be serious ; — it is time. 

Since laughter now-a-days is deem*d too serioiMi 

A jest at Vice by Virtue 's call'd a crimen 
And critically held as deleterious : 

Besides, the sad 's a source of the sublime, 
Although when long a little apt to weary us ; 

And therefore shalt my lay soar high and solemn. 

As an old temple dwindled to a column. 



n. 

The Lady Adeline Amundeville 

(T is an old Norman name, and to be found 
In pedigrees by those who wander still 

Along the last fields of that Gothic ground) 
Was high-born, wealthy by her father^ will. 

And beauteous, even where beauties most abound^ 
In Britain — which of. course true patriots find 
The goodliest soil of body and of mind. 



in. 

I 11 not gainsay them ; it Is not my cue ; 

I leave them to their taste, no doubt the best : 
An eye 's an eye, and whether black or blue. 

Is no great matter, so 't is in request, 
T is nonsense to dispute about a hue -^ 

The kindest may be taken as a te&t. 
Tbe fair sex should be always {Iblvt \ w[A t\o imcfk^ 
TUJ thirty, should perceive IheTe ^a a ipWva h^ouaa* 




And aAer that serene and somewhitt dull 

Epoel^ ibat ankwnril cornrr lumM for dan 

Mow quiefay ben our moon 'a ao mum nl Tuli, 
We nKMtopume lo criticise or pnilse ; 

B e e * — ^Hfirenca begins to lull 

Oorpa^^p^ and we walk in wisdom 'a mym 

AbofeMMnee the figure and the face 

Hint, timt \ is lime to gi\-e the youigw plaoe. 




I know Ihttt some would fain postpone ihia erii 
Rductuit at a[| placemen lo tnsign 

Their poel ; biil tliitira is merely ■ eliiinei«|- 
For they Imve pass'd hCa'tt eqainoelul h' ' 

But then Ihev have their clarfl and Made! 
To irrigate the dryness of decline; 

Aod county meetings, and the parliament, 

And debt, ajid what not, for their solace sent. 



And is there not religion, and reform. 

Peace, war, the taxes, and what 's call'd the " NatioB T " 
The struggle to bo pilots in a storm T 

The landed and the monicd speculation 1 
The joys of mutual hate to keep them warm, 

Inntead of love, that mere hallucination I 
Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure ; 
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure. 



Rough Johnson, the great moralist, profess'd. 
Right honestly, "he liked an honest hater 1"—^ 

The only truth that yet has been confess'd 
Within ttiese latest thousand years or later. 

Perhaps the fine old fellow spoke in jest : — 
For my part, 1 am but a mere spectator, 

And gaze where'er the palace or the bore! i% 

Much in the mode of Goethe's Mephitrtopbelee; 




DON IVAK. 



But neither love oor hale in much excesa ; 

Though 't waa not once so. If I sneer sometunaa 
It is l>ecHuse I cannot well do les^ 

And now and then it also suits my rhymes. 
I should be very willing to redress 

Men's wrun^'S, and rather check than punish crimsa. 
Had not Cervantes, in that too true tale 
Of Quixotct shown how all such efibrta faiL 



or all tales 't is the saddest — and more sad, 
B(>cau3c it makes us smile : his hero 's right. 

Anil still pursues llic right ; — to curb the b;id 
His only objocl, nnd 'gainst odds to light 

His guerdon : 't is his virtue makes him mad ! 
But his udvcntures form a sorry sight; — 

A sorrier still is the greiit moral taught 

By that real epic unto all who have thought. 



Redressing injury, revenging wrong. 

To niil the damsel und destroy the caitiff; 

Opposing singly the united strong. 

From loreipn yoke to free the helpless native : — 

Alas ! mu8t noblest views, like an old song. 
Be for mere fancy's sport a theme creative, 

A jest, a riddle. Fame through thick and thin sought! 

And Socrates himself hut Wisdom's (Quixote I 



Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away ; 

A single laugh deraolisliM the right arm 
Of his oivn country ; — seldom since that day 

Hns Spain had lieroes. While Romance could chanoi 
The world gave ground before her bright array ; 

And therefore have his volumes Aon* »\w;W».t\a, 
7Tja( all their giorv, »■ ■" — nnntttioo, 
WsM deaiiy pan vS* \Ktia!iviSL' 



I *(n "al my oH lones" — dtpi^Mnon, otid fiirgot 

The Lady Adeline Amundeville ; 
The fnir moat fatal Juan ever iiifl. 

Although she was not evil nor innani ill ; 
But Desliny and Passion mtrHtit tite not 

(Fale tH a good eicu^- ■ own will), 

And caught them ; — wha cy not calcb, DMlllitmT 



I) not (Edipus, and ■ S{>htni. 



xin. 

1 IcU tlie tale lUi it is told, ro 

To venture a solulion : h Mm I " 

And now I irjil proce^ upou pair. 

Swept AdHinr, nmiflst Ihc gnv world's hum, 

Wni the Queeo Bee, the glass of all that 's liur ; 
Whose charms made all men speak, and women i 

Tlie last 's a miracle, and such was rec^on'd, 

And since that time there has not been a seeoad. 



Chaste was she, to detraction's de^ieration. 
And wedded unto one she had lored wdl — 

A man known in the councils of the nation, 
Cool, and quite English, impfirturbable, 

I'hough apt to act with fire upon occaaion. 
Proud of himself and her : the worid Could tell 

Nought against either, and both seem'd aecon — 

She in her virtoe, he in his hauteur. 



It chanced some diplomadeal ralationB, 
Arising out of business, often brought 

Hitnself and Juan in their mutual stations 
Into ckwe contact. Though reanved, -nor etogk 

Dy specioue seeming, Juan's youth, and pattence^ 
And talent, on his hMighty spirit wrought. 

And fbnn'dabaM<A«iAena,-«VMh«m^ 

lit maUog niW wWl mmAm!) witaWw^. 



M 



CAMTOXUI. 



DON JUAir. 406 



XVI. 



And thus Lord Henry, who was cautious as 

Reserve and pride could make him, and full slow 

In judging men — when once his judgment was 
Determined, right or wrong, on friend or foe. 

Had all the pertinacity pride has, 

Which knows no ebb to its imperious flow. 

And loves or hates, disdaining to be guided, 

Because its own good pleasure hath decided. 



xvn. 

His friendships, therefore, and no less aversions. 
Though oft well founded, which confirm'd but more 

His prepossossions, like the laws of Persians 

And Modes, would ne'er revoke what went before. 

His feelings hiid not those strange fits, like tertians. 
Of common likings, which make some deplore 

What they should laugh at — the mere ague still 

Of men's regard, the fever or the chill. 



xvin. 

^ 'T is not in mortals to command success : 

But do you more, Scmpronius — do nH deserve it," 

And take my word, you won't have any less. 
Be warv, watch the time, and always serve it: 

Give gently way, when there 's too great a press ; 
And for your conscience, only learn to nerve it, 

For, like a racer, or a boxer training, 

T will make, if proved, vast efforts without pidningi 



XIX. 

Lord Henry also liked to be superior, 
As most men do, the little or the great ; 

The very lowest find out an inferior. 

At least tliev think so, to exert their state 

X3pon : for there are very few things wearier 
Thiin solitary Pride's oppressive vreV^V^ 

Which mortals generously would AWvde, 
Bjr bidding othera carry while they ride. 




In birth, in rank, in fortune lilu^wisa nqaal, 
O'er Jat.D he could no distinution cUim; 

In years ha had the advantage uf lime's sr<|Ofil ; 
And, as he Ihou^^ht. in counU-y nnich thn mim • 

Bocause bold Britons have a longur and free quil^ 
Al which all modern 'atnly atni; 

And the Lord Henry H— 1 debalur, 

8u ibat few niciiilwrs kcp tnac up later. 



Those wetv Bilvanlage i 

It wBB his foibloi bn i 

Thai few or mm more n udPlMd mt^"- 

Coiirt mysliTips, having ixMsn himsclfa minister: 
He liked to tench that which he had been taught, 

And greatly shone whenever there had been a. stir; 
And reconciled all qualities which grace man, 
Always a patriot, and sometimes a plac 



He liked the gentle Spaniard for his gravity ; 

He almost honour'd him for his dor.ility. 
Because, though young, he acquiesced with Buari^, 

Or contradicted hut with proud humility. 
He knew the world, and would not see depravity 

In faults which sometimes show the soil's fertUitj, 
If that the weeds o'erlive not the first crop — • 
For then they are very difficult to stop. 



And theD he lalk'd with him about Madrid, 

Constantinople, and such distant places; 

Where people always did as Ihey were bid. 

Or did what they should not with foreign gnuMM. 
Of coursers also spake they : Henry rid 

Well, like tuost En([|l\ahin«a, And loved the moM; 
And Juan, like & tiUB-\»Ta Kn&«.VaB)UL, 
Could buck a i»r»e, M 4o«9«>*« "*• ^^"■***- 



0AW90 MBL 



DOH JVAN. 411 



XXIV, 

And thus acquaintance grew, at noble routs. 

And diplomatic dinners, or at other — 
For Juan stood well both with Ins and Outs, 

As in freemasonry a higher brother. 
Upon his talent Henry had no doubts ; 

His manner show'd him sprung from a high mother; 
And all men like to show their hospitality 
To him whose breeding matches with his quality. 

XXV. 

At Blank-Blank Square ; — for we will break no squarei 
By naming streets : since men are so censorious. 

And apt to sow an author's wheat with tares. 
Reaping allusions private and inglorious, 

Whore none were dreamt of, unto love's aflTairs, 
Whicli were, or are, or are to Imj notorious, 

That therefore do I previously declare. 

Lord Henry's mansion was in Blank-Blank Square. 

XXVI. 

Also there bin * another pious reason 

For making squares and streets anonymous; 

Which is, that there is scarce a single season 
Which doth not shake some very splendid house 

With some slight heart-quake of domestic treason — 
A topic scandal doth delight to rouse : 

Such I might stumble over unawares. 

Unless I knew the very chastest squares. 

xxvn. 

'T is true, I might have chosen Piccadilly, 

A place where peccadillos are unknown ; 
But I have motives, whether wise or silly, 

For letting that pure sanctuary alofie. 
Therefore I name not square, street, place, until I 

Find one whore nothing naughty can be shown, 
A vestal shrine of innocence of heart : 
Such are but I have lost the London CWtV* 

** With every thing thnt pretty Wn, ^ 



4 id DON JUAlf. 



zxYin. 



cahto nn. 



At Henry's mansion then, in Blank-Blank Sqoarei 
Was Juan a rccherch6, welcome guest, 

As many other noble scions were ; 

And some who had but talent for their creat ; 

Or wealth, which is a passport every where ; 
Or even nu»ro fasliion, which indeed *s the bcflt 

Recommendation ; and to be well dress'd 

Will very often supersede the rest. 



And since '' there 's safety in a multitude 

Of counsellors," as Solomon has said. 
Or some one for him, in some sa^e« g^rave mood ; — 

Indeed we see the daily proof dispUiy'd 
In senates, at the ])ar, in wordy feud, 

Where'er collective wisdom can parade, 
Which is the only cause that we can ^uess 
Of Britain's present wealth and happiness ; — 



XXX. 

But as " there 's safety " grafted in the number 
*' Of counsellors " for men, — thus for the sex 

A large acquaintance lets not Virtue slumber; 

Or should it shake, the choice will more perplex^ 

Variety itself will more encunil)er. 

'Midst many rocks we {juard more against wreck*; 

And thus with women : howsoe'er it shocks some's 

Self-love, there *s safety in a crowd of coxcombs. 



XXXI. 

But Adeline had not the least occasion 

For such a shield, which leaves but little merit 

To virtue proper, or good education. 

II<'r chief resource was in her own hijjh spirit. 

Which judged mankind at their due estimation ; 
And for cocpietry, she disdain'd to wear it: 

Secure of admiration, its impression 

Was faint, as of an evct^-^ia.^' ^o^afcsavoxi* 



eunoxoL 



DON JUAN. 419 



To all she was polite withoat parade ; 

To some she show'd attention of that kind 
Which flatters, but is flattery convey'd 

In such a sort as cannot leave behind 
A trace unworthy either wife or maid ; — 

A gentle, genial courtesy of mind, 
To those who were, or pass'd for meritorioosy 
Just to console sad glory for being glorious ; 



. xxxm. 

Which is in all respects, save now and then, 
A dull and desolate appendage. Gaze 

Upon the shades of those distinguish'd men. 
Who were or are the puppet-shows of praise. 

The praise of persecutiou. Gaze again 

On the most favourM ; and amidst the blaze 

Of sunset halos o'er the laurel-brow'd. 

What can ye recognise ? — a gilded cloud. 



XXXIV. 

There also was of course in Adeline 

That calm patrician polish in the address. 

Which ne'er can pass the equinoctial line 
Of any thing which nature would express; 

Just as a Mandarin flnds nothing fine, — 
At least his manner suflers not to guess 

That any thing he views can greatly please 

Perhaps we have borrow'd this from the Chinese 



XXXV. 

Perhaps from Horace : his " Nil admirari " 
Was what he call'd the " Art of Happiness ;** 

An art on which the artists greatly vary. 
And have not yet attained to miicli success. 

However, 't is expedient to be wary : 

Indiflcrence certes do n't prodvice dvaVt«B%% 

And rash enthusiasm in good society 

Were nothing but a moral inebrletv 




Bat Addins was not indifrerent : for 

(iKw tar & comown-phce !) benealli itw «noVi 

As a Tolcam holds the lava more 

WittuD — ftceetera. Shall I go out — No! 

I hate to hunt down a tired luelaplior. 
So let the ofien.used volcttno go. 

Poor thiag ! Uow Trequently, hy loe and othen, 

It hath baaa slirr'd up till its ainolu quite 8i 



1 11 hare aDodier fignra is a tri«a : — 
What aaj you to a bottle of ehampagnt 

Frozen into a reiy tidoiu ice. 

Which leaves few drops of that immortal nSa, 

Yet in the vrry centre, pnst all price. 
About a iiijuid glassful will remain; 
And this is stronpor than the strongest grape 
Could e'er express in ila expanded shape : 

xxxvm. 

T is the whole spirit brought to a quintessence ; - 
And thus the chilliest nspocls may concentre 

A hiddon ncclar under a coM presence. 

And ^ucli arc many — though I only nwant hei 

From whom 1 now duJuco thi>.-«.' iiioni le.-sions. 
On Hliich the Muse lin-s alwsns Miu^ht to enter. 

And your cold people are Ix-yond all price, 

When once you have broken tbeit confounded ioa> 



But aflcr nil thev are a North- W«st Passage 
Unto the glowing India of the soul ; 

And as the good ships sent upon that message 
Have not exactly ascertain'J the Pole 

(Though Parry's efforts look a lucky presage), 
Thus gentlemen may run upon a shoal ; 

Fm if (he Pole 'a nol «pei>,\«aX aft ^t<i»*. 

CA chance itill), 't la a ^o^a^p i^ ^rewaW-fc. 




And young beginners may aa well c 

With (juiet cruising o'er the ocean woman ; 

Wliile those wlio 're not beginners should have sense 
Enough to make for port, ere time shall summon 

With his gray signal-fiug ; ami tlje past tense, 
The dreary ■* Fuimiu '' of ail things human, 

Must be declined, while life's thin thread 's spun out 

Between the gaping huir and gnawing gout. 



Bat heaven must be diverted ; its diversion 
Is sometirm>s Iruciilent — but never mind ; 

The world upon lUe whole is worth the assertion 
(irhiit for comlbri) Ihat all tilings are kind : 

And that same devilish doclrinc of the Persian, 
Oflhu two principles, but leaves behind 

As many doubts as any other doctrine 

Has ever puzzled Faith witlial, or yoked her in. 



The English winter — ending in July, 

To recommence in Au$Tiist — now was done. 

T is the puslilion's paradi.ic : wheels fly ; 

On ronils. East, SimDi. North, West, tliere is a inn. 

But for p.ist-horses who Rn<\s symp!i(hy 7 
Man's pity 'a I'or hinisulf, or for his son, 

Always premising that said son at college 

Has not contracted much mure debt than knowledge. 



The London winter 's ended in July — 
Sometimes a little later. 1 do n't err 

In this ; whatever other blunders lie 
Upon my shoulders, here 1 must aver 

My Muse a glass of weatlierology ; 
For parliament is our barometer -. 

Lei Radicah its other nets attack, 
Jta aeseioDB form our only almai^ck. 



When Iti qaickailver *s dovn at zero, — lo ! 

Cosflh, chnriol, luggage, baggage^ equipage! 
Wfank whirl Trom Carilon paJace to Soho, 

And happiest they who horses can eiigag«; 
Tbe tampikes glow with dust ; and Hotleit Rev 

Sle^M fi-om the chivalry of Uiis bri;:!)! age ; 
And tndeinieD. with long bills and loiii^r fnoea. 
Sigh — u tlie postboys fasten on tbe traces. 



Tlier »bA their bills, " Arcndians both,"* are left 
'I\>the Greek kaleoda of nnolber sesioi 

Alaa ! to tliem of rcadv cash bereflf 
What hope remaim'T OTJupe the fbll p 

Or generous dral^, conceded as a gifl. 

At a long date — till they can get a fresh one — 
Hawk'd about at a discount, small or large ; 
Al60 the solace of an overcharge. 



But these are trifles. Downward flies my lord. 
Nodding beside my lady in his carriage. 

Away ! away ! " Fresh horses ! " arc thR word, 
And changed as ijuickly as hearts after marriage. 

The obsequious lundiord hath the change restored; 
Tbe postboys have no reason to disparage 

Their fee ; but ere the water'd wheels may hiss henca 

'I^e ostler pleads too for'a reminiscence. 



T is granted ; and the valet mounts the dickey— 
That gentleman of lords and gentlemen ; 

Also my lady's gentlewoman, tricky, 

Trick'd out, but modest niore than poet's pen 

Con paint, — " Coii riaf^ino i Ricchif " 
(E.xcusc a foreign slipslop now and then. 

If but to show I 've traveli'd j and what 'a trard, 

Unless it teaches otn lo <^tA ond cayil T) 



nurroxiB. 



DON JUAlf. 4i 



zLvni. 



The London winter and the country summer 
Were well nigh over. 'T is perhaps a pity, 

When nature wears the gown that doth become heatf 
To lose those best months in a sweatv city, 

And wait until the nightingale grows dumber, 
Listening debates not very wise or witty, 

Ere patriots their true country can remember ; — 

But there 's no shooting (save grouse) till September. 



XLIX. 

I Ve done with my tirade. The world was gone ; 

The twice two thousand, for whom earth was made« 
Were vanish'd to be what they call alone, — 

That is, with tliirty servants for parade. 
As nmny guests, or more ; lK*fore whom groan 

As many covers, duly, daily laid. 
Let none accuse old England's hospitality — 
Its quantity is but condensed to quality. 



L. 

Lord Henry and the Lady Adeline 

Departed like the rest of their compeers, 

The peerage, to a mansion very fine ; 
The Gothic Babel of a thousand years. 

None than themselves could boast a longer line. 

Where time through heroes and through beauties steera 

And oaks as olden as their pedigree 

Told of their sires, a tomb in every tree. 



LI. 

A paragraph in every paper told 

Of their departure : such is modern fame : 

'T is pity that it takes no further hold 

Than an advertisement, or much the same ; 

When, ere the ink be dry, the sound grows cold* 
The Morning Post was foremost to ^tocX^VKi- 

*' Vepnrture, for his country-seat, to-day. 
Lord H, Amundeville and Lady A.. 



OOM JU&K. 



** We andnrstaDd the splendid liost inteiulc 
To enlarlain, this aulumti, a sriect 

And nunaerous parly of liia nnhlc iVi.Mi.i^; 

Midst wbuia we bave ltcui>i, Iruui naueiiai ijuil 

The Uiike of D the Bhooting aauon Mcd^ 

With many more by nnk mad fiulu<» asok'df 

Also a foreigner of high condidoi^ 

Tiie enniy u the Mcret Pi— ■«■ uubob." 



And thtM weaee — who doabtetlw HoraiBglVMtf 

(Whoae Krticlea are like the *• Thirty-mBe,' 
Which those most swear to who believe thetn mdttf — 

Our gav Ru?s Spaniard waa ordain'd to shine, 
DccWM by the rnys relli'clwl from liis liosl. 

Wilh those wlio, Pope s.-lvm, " greatly daring dine," 
T is odd, hut true, — last war the News abounded 
More with these dinners than the kilt'd or wounded ; - 



LIV. 

As thus: " On Tliursday there waa a ^rand dinner; 

Present, Lorila A. B. C." — Earls, dukes, by name 
Annniinced niili no lei^s pomp than victory's winitnr* 

Then underneath, anil in the very snine 
Cohimn : date. " I'ahuuuth. There had lately n-«n n 

The Slap^a^h regiment, eo well known to fame ; 
Whose loss in the Inle action we rcfiret : 
The vacancies are fill'd up — see Gazette." 



To Norman Abbey whirl'd tlie noble pair. — ^ 

An old, old monastery once, and now 
Still older mansion, — of a rich and ram 
Mix'd (iuthic, sueh as artists all allow 
Few specimens yet Icl'l us can compare 
Wilhnl : it lies perhaps a Utile low. 
Because the nionka prufcttWiVAVWav^i, 
To shelter tlieir devoviotv faova tt^ ^voi- 



] 



Canto zm. 



Doir jUAir. 419 



LVI. 



It stood embosomM in a happy valley, 

Crown'd by high woodlands, where the Druid oak 
Stood like Carnctaciis in act to rallv 

His host, with broad arms 'gainst the thunder .stroko ; 
And from beneath his boughs were seen to sally 

The dappled foresters — as day awoke. 
The branching stag swept down with. all his herd, 
To quaff a brook which murmur'd like a bird. 



LTn. 

Before the mansion lay a lucid lake, 

Jkoad as transparent, deep, and freshly fed . 

Bv a river, which its soften M wav did take 
In currents through the calmer water spread 

Around : the wild fowl nestled in the brake 
And sedgcvs, brooding in their liquid bed : 

The woods sloped downwards to its brink, and stood 

With their green faces fix'd upon the flood. 



Lvni. 

Its outlet dash'd into a deep cascade. 

Sparkling with foom, until again subsiding, 

Its shriller echoes — like an infant made 
Quiet — sank into softer ripples, gliding 

Into a rivulet ; and thus allay'd. 

Pursued its course, now gleaming, and now hiding 

Its windings through the woods ; now clear, now blue. 

According as the skies their shadows threw. 



LIX. 

A glorious remnant of the Gothic pile 

(While yet the church was Rome's) stood half apart 
In a grand arch, which once screen'd many an aisle, 

These last had disappear'd — a loss to art : 
The first yet frown'd superbly o'er the sov\, 

And kindled feelings in the rougVveat \\^;sLt\, 
Which mourn'd the power of timers ot tei«^ft>?» \si»x^2^ 
fn gazing on that venerable arch. 




Within a niclie, nign to its pinnacle. 

Twehe taints had once aluod eanctified in i 
But than tad fallisn, not when the frian Toll, 

But in tb^ wnr whicVi struck CliarW from his t 
When well house was a fortahce — n« It-ll 

The annals of full many n line undone. 
The gallnBt cavaliers, who fought in vnin ; 
For fluMO vho knew not to reiign or reign. 



But in & higlicr nichn, qIodg, but crown'd. 

The Vi^in Mfithpr of the Wod.born CliUiI. 
With her San in tier bkuMeiJ uriuu, IcmJi'^ lotutd,' 

Spared bv some chance when all beside waa spoii'd; 
Shf made the earth below seem holy ground. 

This may be siiperalition, iveak or wild, 
But even the faintest relics of a shrine 
Of any worship wake some thoughts divine. 



A mighty window, hollow in the centre. 
Shorn of its glass of thousand colourings. 

Through which the drepen'd glories once could enterj 
Streaming from off the stin like seraph's wings. 

Now yawns nil desolate : now loud, now fainter, 
The gale sweeps through its fretwork, and oft sir 

The owl hia anthem, where the silenced quire 

Lie with their hallelujahs quench'd like fire. 



But in the noontide of the moon, and when 

TTic wind is winged from one point of heaven. 
There moans a strange unearthly sound, which then 

Is musical — a dyinp accent driven 
Through the huge arch, which soars and sinks again. 

Some deem it bul VVvc A\s\.mA (bcfeo f^iven 
Back to the night ntVnA \i"f VW ■»«o.\cA»&, 
And harmonized by ttwi oU tWt^^nSk-. 



tunoauL DON juah. 421 



LXIV. 

Others, that some original shape, or form 

Shaped by decay perchance, hath given the power 

(Though less than that of Memnon's statue, warm 
In Egypt's rays, to harp at a fix'd hour) 

To this gray ruin, with a voice to charm. 
Sad, but serene, it sweeps o'er tree or tower , 

The cause I know not, nor can solve ; but such 

The fact : — I 've heard it, — once perhaps too much. 



LXV. 

Amidst the court a Gothic fountain play'd. 

Symmetrical, hut deck'd with carvings quaint -~ 

Strange faces, like to men in masquerade, 
And here perhaps a monster, there a saint : 

The spring gusliM through grim mouths of granite made^ 
And sparkled into basins, where it spent 

Its little torrent in a thousand bubbles, 

Like man's vain glory, and his vainer troubles. 



LXVI. 

The mansion's self was vast and venerable, 
With more of the monastic than has been 

Elsewhere preserved : the cloisters still were stable^ 
The cells, too, and refectory, I ween : 

An exquisite small chapel had been able. 
Still unimpair'd, to decorate the scene ; 

The rest ha»d been reform'd, replaced, or sunk, 

And spoke more of the baron than the monk. 



LXVII. 

Huge halls, long galleries, spacious chambers, join'd 
By no quite lawful marriage of the arts. 

Might shock a connoisseur ; but when combined, 
Form'd a whole which, irregular in parts, 

Yet \el\ a grand impression on the mind. 

At least of those whose eyes are m iVvevt \keaLT\»» 

We gaze upon a giant for his stature. 
Nor judge at iirst i£ all be true to natuie. 



€22 DON jUAzr. 



Lxvm. 



Steel barons, molten the next generation 
To silken rows of gay and garter'd earls, 

Glanced from the walls in goodly preservation : 
And Lady Mar\'s blooming into girls, 

With fair long locks, had also kept their station: 
And countesses mature in robes and pearls : 

Also some beauties of Sir Peter Lelv, 

Whoso drapery liints we may admire them freely. 

LXIX. 

Judges in very formidable ermine, 

Were there, with brows that did not much invite 
The accused to think their lordships would determine 

His cause by loaning much from might to right: 
Bisli<i|>s, who had not left a sin«rle sermon: 

Attornovs-inMHTal, awful to the sielit. 
As hintin*; more (unless our judgments warp us) 
Of the **Star Chamber" than of "Habeas Corpus." 



LXX. 

Generals, some all in armour, of the old 

And iron time, ere lead had ta'en the lead ; 

Others in wi^s of Marlhorou^Hi'd martial fold, 
Hiijrer than twelve of (uir di'ijenerate breed : 

Lorcilin^rs, with slaves of white or keys of jrold : 

Ninirods, wlujse canvass scarce containM the steed ; 

And here and there sonic stern high patriot stood. 

Who could not get the place for which he sued. 

LXXI. 

But ever and anon, to soothe your vision. 

Fatigued with these hereditary glories. 
There rose a Carlo Dolce or a Titian, 

Or wilrler frn>u[> of savage Srilvatore's :* 
Here danced Alhano's l)oys, and here the sea shone 

In Vernet's ocran li;:hts; and there the stories 
Of martyrs awed, as Sim^noletto tainted 
His brush with all the blood of all the sainted. 



jo: 



eurroxiu. 



DON JiTAir. 4St8 



LXxin 



Here sweetly spread a landscape of Lorraine ; 

There Rembrandt made his darkness equal lighti 
Or gloomy Caravaggio's gloomier stain 

Bronzed o'er some lean and stoic anchorite : — 
But, lo ! a Tcniers woos, and not in vain, 

Your eyes to revel in a livelier sight : 
His hell-mouth'd goblet makes me feel quite Danish * 
Or Dutch with thirst — What, ho ! a flask of RhenisL. 

Lxxin. 

reader ! if that thou canst read, — and know, 
T is not enough to spell, or even to read, 

To constitute a reader ; there must go 

Virtues of which both you and I have need. 

Firstly, begin with the l)eginning — (though 
That clause is hard) ; and secondly, proceed ; 

Thirdly, commence not with the end — or, sinning 

In this sort, end at least with the beginning. 

LXXIV. 

But, reader, thou hast patient been of late. 
While I, without remorse of rhyme, or fear. 

Have built and laid out ground at such a rate, 

Dan Pha3bus takes me for an auctioneer. ^ 

That poets were so from their earliest date, 
By Homer's " Catalogue of Ships " is clear • 

But a mere modern must l>e moderate — 

1 spare you then the furniture and plate. 

LXXV. 

The mellow autumn came, and with it came 

The promised party, to enjoy its sweets. 
The corn is cut, the manor full of game ; 

The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats 
In russet jacket : — lynx-like is his aim ; 

Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats. 
Ah, nut-brown partridges ! Ah, brilliant pheasants! 
And ah, ye poachers ! — 'Tia no b^iI ^ot Y^^^a^-"^^^^ 

*IfIerrnot, "your Dane" bone of logo* » ca\a^osQft olT»Jetfwvv**«**^S^^ 
Amr drinking" 




An English autumn, ihoiigl) it hatli no vinea, 
iiUisiiing willi ItticcUitnl ooronuls along 

The pallis, o'er wliicli the far frslonn enlwinM 
The red gmpe in (lie sunny bn<la of Ming, 

Hitlli yet a piirchiiscij clioirt? »r dtoiccst winca ; 
The clurct light, and Ihe Mm' im strong. 

If Britain mourn livr bk-ukneis, re con tcU bert 

tha very beet of vinvyarila ia tUi cellar. 



Then, if slie hath not (hat eerene ileclino 
Which ntakev the ttotilhern autumn's day a 

Aa if 't would to a aecond spring r 

The wasKin, rather than to winter Jrwtr,— 

Of in-door c.imforls sliil she hnlh ii Miiiif.— 
The sea-coal tires, the "earliest of the year;" 

Without doora, too, she may compete in mellow, 
' As what is lost in greeo is gain'd in yellow. 



And for the efieminate mBegguitura — 

Rife with more horns than hounds — she hatfa the d 
So animated that it might allure a 

Snint from his beads tojuin the jocund race; 
Even Nimrod'a self might leave the plains of ijma* 

And wear the Melton jacket for a space : 
If she hath do wild boars, she hath a ^me 
Preserve of bores, who ought to be made game. 



"Dk noble guests, assembled at the Abbey, 
Consisted of — we give the sex thejMt— 

The Duchess of Filz-Fulke; the Countess CraUiri 
The Ladies Scilly, Busey ; — Hiss Eclat, 

Hisa Bombaseen, Miss Mackstay, Miss OlStUtv, 
And Mrs. Rabbi, the rich banker's squaw , 

Also the Honouratje Mrs. Sleep, 

Who look'd a whitA \antb, ^«t «na a. hUck aheep : 




With other Countesses of Blank — but rnnb , 
At once the "lie" and the "^lite" of crowds ^ 

Who pass like water tilter'd iu a tank. 

All purged and pious Troni Llieir native clouds ■ 

Or paper turn'd to money by the 6a.nk ; 

No matter how or why, the passport shrouds 

The " pass6e " and the past ; for good society 

Is DO less fained for tolerance than piety, — 



That is, up to a certain point ; which point 
Forma the most difficult in punctuation. ' 

Appearanct'S appear to form the joint 
Un wliich it hini;cui in a hin;her station ; 

And so timt no explosion cry " Aroint 

Thee, witch ! " or each Medea has her Jason ; 

Or (to the point with Horace and with Putci) 

" Omne lulU puiwtum, quie miscuU utUe duki." 



1 can't exactly trace their rule of right, 
Which hath a litlie leaning lo n lottery. 

I've st*n a virtuous woman put down quite 
By the mere combination of a coterie ; 

Also a so-so matron boldly fight 

Her way back lo the world by dint of plottery. 

And shine the very Siria of the spheres, 

Escaping with a few slight, scarless sneers. 



I 've seen more than I '11 say : — but we will see 

How our viUeggialnra will get on. 
The partv miglit consist of thirty-three 

Of higiiost cn^lc — the Brahmins of the Ion. 
I 'vc named a few, not foremost in degree. 

But ta'en at hazard as the rVtynte oa^ t^ui. 
By way of sprinkling, scattet'd amon^ \\\«»eL 
Ihepe oiso were some Irish altseMeea 



DO!) JOAK. 



LXXXIV. 



There WM Parollea. loo, the lefml bally. 

Wbo Units all his battles to lb« bar 
And seiwta : when invited eUowtMro. tnity< 

He ahowB more appetite Tor wordj than wmr. 
There wma Ihc young bard Kuckrhymr, w1»o had ne 

Come oat and glimnicr'd ns n sis works' aUr. 
TTiere waa Lord Pyrrho, to(), Uw groat frMtlhtnker j 
And tar John Pollledeep, the mighty drinker. 



There wu the Duke of Daeb, who was a — duke. 

" Aj, evtry inch a " duke; there were twelve p 
Like Charieniaane's — end ull aiieh peers in look 

And intellect, that neither eyes nor ears 
For comnionera had ever them mialook. 

There were the six ^liss Rawbold^ — pretty dean ■ 
All song and sentiment ; whose hearts were aet 
Ijess on a convent than a coronet. 



There were four Honoumblo Mister^ whose 

Honour was more before their nann^ than afl«r; 

There was the preux Chevalier de la Ruse, 

Whom Frnncn and Fortune lately deign'd to wafl ber^ 

Whose chiefly harmless talent was to amuse ; 
But the cluhs found it rather serious laughter, 

Because — such was his magic power to pleaae— 

The dice seem'd chann'd, too, with his repartee*. 



There was Dick Dubious, the metaphysician. 
Who loved philosophy and a good dinner ; 
Angle, the soi-diaant mathematician ; 

Sir Henry Silvercup, the great race-winner. 
There was the Reverend Rodomont Precisian ; 
Who did not bate so much the sin as situwi 
And Lord AugostuB B'vt.T^^VLu^&^iift^i 
Good at «lt thioga, but XwAUa tA •■>««*» 



DON JITAN. 48T 



Lxxxvni. 



Thore was Jack Jargon, the gigantic guardsman ; 

And General Firefacc, famous in the field, 
A great tactician,.and no less a swordsman, 

Who ate, last war, more Yankees than he kill'd. 
There was the waggish Welsh Judge, JelFeriei* Hardsman, 

In his grave oflice so completely skill'd, 
That when a culprit came for condemnation. 
He had his judge's joke for consolation* 



Lxxxn. 

Good company 's a chess-board — there are kings. 

Queens, bishops, knights, rooks, pawns ; the world 's a 

Save that the puppets pull at their own strings, [game* 
Methinks gay Punch hath something of the same. 

My Muse, the butterfly hath but her wings. 

Not stings, and flits through ether without aim, 

Alighting rarely : — were she but a hornet. 

Perhaps there might be vices which would mourn it* 



xc. 

I had forgotten — but must not forget — 

An orator, the latest of the session. 
Who had delivered well a very set 

Smooth speech, his first and maidenly transgression 
Upon debate : the papers echoed yet 
- With this d^but, which made a strong impression. 
And rank'd with what is every day displayed — 
* The best first speech that ever yet was made." 



xci* 

Proud of his " Hear hims! " proud, too, of his rote^ 

And lost virginity of oratory. 
Proud of his learning (just enough to quote), 

He revell'd in his Ciceronian glory : 
With memory excellent to get by rote, 

With wit to hatch a pun or teVv a «\ot^ ^ 
Graced with some merit, and mlh moTe efitoiiX«rf ^ 
^ Sis country*8 pride,'* he came down Vo V\» cfiMCofcrj' 



DOX JVXV. 




There also were Iwo wile by ncclainatiaa. 

LoDgbow ftom frcknd, Strongbow Gfrnn tbG 1 
Bbib lawvere and bolh men of education ; 

But Sirnngbow'a wit was of more potlshM bicod ; 
Lbngbon- was rich in an imagination 

Aa beautiful and bounding ns a atrcd. 
but sometimes stumhling ovrr n polnlo,— [Calo. 

While Strongbow's best things mighl bare cotDO fiwn 



Strongbow ms lifar « a 



Of Strongbow's talk jron would not change a woH t 

At Longbow's pbrasea you might aometime* CKips 
Both wits — one bom so, and the other bred, 
Thia by his heart — his rival by his head. 



If all these seem a heterogeaeoua mass 

To bo assembled at a country-aeat, 
Tet think, a specimen of every class 

Is better than h humdrum t€lc-i>tSte. 
The dava of Coiiwdv arc gonp, alusl 

When Congrevi^'s fuol cuuld vie with Molidre'i UCl i 
Society is smooth'd to that excess, 
That manners hardly differ more than dresa. 



Our ridicules are kept in the back-ground— 

Ridiculous enough, but also dull; 
Professions, too, are no more to be found 

Professional ; and there is nought to cull 
or folly's fruit': for though your fools abound, 

They .'re barren, and not worth the ^ins to ] 
Society is now one ^Vistfi \k>tAo, 
Fonn'd of twn nu^ty tnbea, ft« Bm* «A « 



GllfTO m* 



DON JITAlf 43d 



XCVI. 



But from being fanners, we turn gleaners, gleaning 
The scanty but right -well thresh 'd ears of truth; 

And, gentle reader ! when you gather meaning, 
You may be Boaz, and I — modest Rutb» 

Farther I 'd quote, but Scripture intervening, 
Forbids. A ^reat impression in my youth 

Was made by Mrs. Adams, where she cries 

** That Scriptures out of church are blasphemies." * 

xcvxi. 

But what we can we glean in this vile age 
Of chaff, although our gleanings be not grist. 

I must not quite omit the talking sage, 
Kit-Cat, the famous conversatio.nist. 

Who, in his common-pluce book, had a page 

Prepared each morn for evenings. ** List, oh list ! '-— ^ 

" Alas, poor ghost ! " — What unexpected woes 

Awaits those who have studied their bon-mots ! 

XCVIII. 

Firstly, they must allure the conversation 

By many windings to tlieir clever clinch ; 
And socondly, must let slip no occasion. 

Nor bate (a!)ate) their hearers of an inch. 
But take an ell — and make a great sensation. 

If possible; and thirdly, never flinch 
When some smart talker ptits them to the test, 
But seize the last word, which no doubt 's the best. 

xcix. 

Lord Henry and his lady were the hosts ; 

The party we have touch'd on were the guests \ 
Their table was a lM)ard to tempt even ghosts 

To pass the Styx for more sul)stantial feasts. 
I will not dwell upon ragouts or roasts, 

All)eit all hinnan history attests 
That happiness for man — the hungry sinner! — 
Since Kve ate apples, much dej)cnds on dinner. 

' • ** Mm. Adnmff nnnwercd Mr. A<lnmR, ihal \\ wnn \Attt\^^oTW5iV» \a NaiS ^^ 
Srnpture nut ofchiirr U." Tli in doi^inn wiw hrotu*\\ei\ \o \\ct \v>M\tivT>A — ^^\s»"" 
/Chrutian in any hook Sco Joitejth Amireim, in l\\© \a\\et cW^^^^^ 




WitasM Ifca lands which " llonM wilh miUc nad hooay," 
Hold oat unto the liuogr)- Israelites : 

To thia we *<k added since, llie love of momzv, 
^1k dalj sort of pleasure which reiguites. 

ToaUt tmilat, and Icnvea our days no longer auaay ; -i 
W« tire of miiilrcsses and panmtes i 

Botiib, u^iosinl cash ! Alt ! who would loae Ihesit 

WhiB w« Bb more can use, or even al>iiMi tbea 1 



Tile gantlenen got up betimes M ahoot, 

Of hunt's the young, becauae tbey liked tht • 
Hw fint thing boys like, ai^cr play nnd fruil ; 

The middto-^isc'd, lo makt: Ilie duy more slioi 
For ennui is a growth of English root, 

Though nameless in our language: — we retort 
The fact for words, and let the French tranelate 
That awful yawn which sleep can not abate. 



The elderly walk'd through the library, 

And tumbled books, or criticised the pictnroa. 

Or saunter'd through the gardens piteously, 

And made upon the liot.hduse several strictora^ 

Or rode a nug wliich trotted ni)t too high. 
Or on the mnrniiig papers read their lecture^ 

Or on the watch their longing eyes would fix, 

LoDging at sixty for the hour of six. 



But none were " g£n6 : " the great hour of anioa 
Was rung by dinner's knell ; till then all were 

Masters of their own lime — or in communion, 
Or solitary, as tbey chose to bear 

Tiiii hours, wliich how to pass is but to few knowib 
Each rose up ut his own, and had to spare 

What lime lie choac Cot d.t«9», Kn&.\ii^«\iA^k^ 

Wbea, where, nnd bow*» •i\>m» few \i>».\. i«v>A. 



CAMTOSIL 



DON JITAN. 48] 



CIV. 



The ladies — some rouged, some a little pale — 
Met the mom as they might. If fine, they rode» 

Or walk'd ; if foul, they read, or told a tale, 
Sung, or rehearsed the last dance from abroad ; 

Disciiss'd the fashion which might next prevail, 
And settled bonnets by the newest code, 

Or cramm'd twelve sheets into one little letter. 

To make each correspondent a new debtor. 

cv. 

For some had absent lovers, all had friends* 

Tiie earth has nothing like a she epistle. 
And hardly heaven — because it never ends. 

I love the mystery of a female missal, 
Which, like a creed, ne'er says all it intends. 

But full of cunning as Ulysses' whistle, 
When he allured poor Dolon : — you had better 
Take care what you reply tQ such a letter. 

cvi. 

Then there were billiards ; cards, too, but no dice 
Save in the clubs no man of honour plays ; — 

Boats when 't was water, skating when 't was ice 
And the hard frost dostroy'd the scenting days 

And angling, too, that solitary vice, 
Whatever Izaak Walton sini^s or savs : 

The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet 

Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.* 

* It would have taught him humanity at least. This sentimental savago, 
whom it is a mode to quote (amonpt the novelists) to show their sympathy for 
innocent simrts and old songs, teaclies how to sew up frogs, and hreak their legs 
by way or ciperiment, in addition to the artufangUng, — the crueleHt,the coldest, 
and the stupidest of pretended bportti. l*hey may talk about the beauties of na- 
ture, but the angler merely thinKs of his dish of nnh ; he has no leisure to taku 
hib eyes from utf the ><treaiiis, and a single bite is worth tu him more than all the 
fcenery around. Besides, Rome fish bite beftt on a rainy day. The whnlo, the 
shark, and the tunny fishery have somewhat of noble and perilous in them ; 
even net li^hing, trawling, 6lc. are more humane and useful, iiut angling! — 
No anirler cnn l>e a good man. 

•* Olio of the best men I ever knew, — as humane, delicate-mindr<* generous, 
•nd oxceUent a creature as any in the world, — was an angler : inie^ tv<«>x\^^^ 
with painted flies, and would have been incapab\« o( Vi\« «iM«.N«»jeiA.^>sA ^ V 
Walton." . . ^^ 

The altove addition waj mfide by a friend in T«aOLVT\f^ ov«i >Xs«"W.^« — ioqw 
mhenm pariem, " — J iea ve it to counterba\aiice mv ovuiv <AMet\«)uknKi 




^tt evening came th« bamiuet and the h'idb , 

IW conversaxioiie ; the duet, 
Attuned by voices more or Ipsh divine 

(Ht heart or liead aches with ihe mouiory ytt), 
^nta four Miss Hawbolds in a glee would shine , 

But Ilie two youngest loved more t» be >ot 
Dtnra to the harp — because to music's chttmw 
^M^ Lddcd graceful necks, white hands and arm. ^ 



s a dance (though rarely oD fieU da;^ 
For then the genllemen were rather tired) 

Du|riay'd some gylpb-like figunsB !n its maae ; 
'nien there was snmll-ialk re:idv wlien required ; 

Flirtation — but decorous; the mere praise 

Of charms that should or should not be admired. 

The hunters fought their fox-hunt o'er again, 

And then retreated soberly — at ten. 



The politicians, in a nook apart, 

Discus^'d the world, and settled all the spheres : 
The wits watch'd every loop-hole for their art, 

To introduce a bon-mot head and ears; 
Small is the rest of Chose who would be smart — 

A moment's good thing may have cost them yean 
Before they find an hour to introduce it. 
And then, even lien, some bore may make them low it> 



But all was gentle and aristocratic 

In this our party ; poHsh'd, smooth, and coM, 
As Phidian forms cut out of marble Attic. 

There now are no Squire Westerns aa of old | 
And our Sophias are not so emphatic. 

But fair as then, or fairer to behold. 
We 've no accotop\ia\i'4\AacV^'Qa\ia,\-^'a'^iaai( 
But gentkmen in sU^a, «» a*aS a» «X»i«ft. 




They sepanted at an early hour ; 

That is, em midnight — which ie London's nooa i 
But in Ihe coiintry Indies seek tiicir bower 

A little carlipr than the waning moon 
Pe.ice to Ihe aluiiibera of cacli folded ilower — 

Mny the rose call back ita true colour aoon ! 
Good hours of fair, cheeks are the fairest tinlerst 
And lower the price of rouge — at least some winton. 



DON JUAN. 



OANTO THB FOURTBENTJ 



I. 

If from great Nature's or ouv own abyss 
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty. 

Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss — 
But then 't would spoil much good philosophy. 

One system eats another up, and this 
Much as old Saturn ate his progeny ; 

For when his pious consort gave him stones 

In lieu of sons, of these he made no bones. 



II. 

But System doth reverse the Titan's breakfast, 
And eats her parents, albeit the digestion 

Is difRcult. Pray tell me, can you make fast, 
Ailer due search, your faith to any question? 

Look back o'er ages, ere unto the stake fast 

You bind yourself, and call some mode the best one. 

Nothing more true than not to trust your senses ; 

And yet what are your other evidences T 



in. 

For mc, I know nought ; nothing I deny. 
Admit, reject, contemn ;• and what know you, 

Except perhaps that you were bom to die f 
And both may after all turn out untrue. 

An age may come. Font of Eternity, 

When nothing shall be either o\d or Ti«y>i* 

Death, bo caU'd, is a thing which mokea tobh ^««^ 
Aadyet a third of life is passed in a\ee^. 



A «)eep without dreaina, after n roagh dny 
f or toil, is what we covet most; and yet 
\How clay shrinka back from mare qiiie»ceal clay l^d 
The very Suicide that pays his debt ■ 

At once without instalments (ua old way 

Of paying debts, which creditors regret) 
Lets out impatiently his rui^bing' breath. 
LeaB from dUguBt of life than dread of death. 



T is round him, near him, here, there, evory whero^i* 
And there 'a a coum^ which grovrs out of ^W( . ^ 

Perhnps of all most desperate, wiuch will due ' 

Til'! worst to trtoic it ; — when the mountains n 

Tlieir peaks beneath your human foot, and there 
You look down o'er the precipice, and drear 

The gulf of rock yawns, — you can't gaze a mintd 

Without an awful wish to plunge withm it. 



"T is true, you do n't — but, pale and struck with terror 
Retire : but took into your past impression ! 

And you will find, thaugh shuddering at the mirror 
Of your own thoughts, in all Iheir self-con fe«siun. 

The lurking bias, be it truth or error. 
To the un^mncn ,- a secret prepassension. 

To plunge with all your fears — but where T Tou know no^ 

And that 's the reason why you do — or do doL 



But what 's this to the purpose T you will oay. 

Gent, reader, nothing ; a mere speculation, 
For which my sole excuse is — 't is my way. 

Sometimes teifA and sometimes without occasion 
I write what 'a uppermost without delay ; 

This narrative is not meant for narration, 
fiut a mere airy and ta.ntaa^\c\n»A, 
To build up coouDOn ttungjk '«'^fti wwuniMa ^ iusrm. 



DON* JUAK. 437 



vni. 



You know, or don't know, that great Bacon saith, 
** Fling up a straw, 't will show the way the wind blows 

And such a straw, borne on by human breath, 
Is poesy, according as the mind glows ; 

A paper kite which flies 'twixt life and death, 
A shadow which the onward soul behind throws : 

And mine 's a bubble, not blown up for praise. 

But just to play with, as an infant plays. 



IX. 

« 
The world is all before me — or behind ; 

For I have seen a portion of that same, 
And quite enough for me to keep in mind ; — 

Of passions, too, I 've proved enough to blame. 
To the great pleasure of our friends, mankind. 

Who like to mix some slight alloy with fame ; 
For I was rather famous in my time. 
Until I fairly knock'd it up with rhyme. 



x. 



I have brought this world about my ears, and eke 
The other ; that 's to say, the clergy — who 

Upon my head have bid their thunders break 
In pious libels by no means a few. 

And yet I can't help scribbling once a week, 
Tiring old readers, nor discovering new. 

In youth I wrote because my mind was full, 

And now because I feel it growing dull. 



XI. 

But ** why then publish ? " — There are no rewards 
Of fame or profit when the world grows weary. 

I ask in turn, — Why do you play at cards? 

Why drink ? Why read ? — To make some hour lew 

It occupies me to turn back regards ^^ckax^ 

On what I 've seen or ponderM, sad ot ^^^t>j % 

And what I write I cast upon tV\e Blream, 

To swim or siok — I have had at \eaat tuv dx^axa* 



I 



1 think that were I eeriaa 

I hardly could com|>u9e aaolhr^r lino ; 
So loDg I Ve batllod either mora or less. 

Thai no defeat can drive mo from (he Nuw. 
This feeling 't it not easy (o vxpn^ia. 

And yet 't is not afTected, I upine. 
Is (Jay, lljcre are two pleasure, for yout chiMiungJ 
The one is wimung, nnd the other loeing. 



1, 1117 Haao b^ no means ies\]s in fiction ; 

She gathers a repertory nf fuels, 
Of CDUrao with some reserve and sliahl rostrjetioB, 

But iDovtly aingn uf buuion ibin)^ and new— 
And that 's one cause she mecta with contradiction ; 

For too much truth, at first sight, ne'er attracta; 
And were her object only what 'a call'd gkiryi 
With more ease too she 'd tell a different stoiy. 



Love, war^a tempest — surely there 's vnrietjr; 

Also a seasoning slight of lucubration ; 
A bird's eye view, too, of that wild, Society ; 

A slight L'liince thrown on men of everv station. 
If you have noiijjht else, here 's at leii»l Mttiely 

Both in performance and in preparation ; 
And though these lines should only line portmanteoil 
Trade wiU be all the l)etter fur these Cantos. 



T1)e portion of this wcM'Id which I at present 
Have taken up to till the following sermon 

Is one of which there 'a no description recent t 
The reason why, is easy to determine : 

Although it seems both prominent and pleasant* 
There is a aacnenew in its geina and ermine, 

A dull and fuiul5 \ik«seH OkiMu^ «!& ««», 
Of no grant pmnuB 6» v«mA^ \*«^ 



DON JUAN. 4t9 



XVI« 



With much to excite, there 's little to exalt ; 

Nothing that speaks to all men and all times ; 
A sort of varnish over every fault ; 

A kind of common-place, even in their crimes ; 
Factitious passions, wit without much salt, 

A want of that true nature which sublimes 
Whate'er it shows with truth ; a smooth monotony 
Of character, in those at least who have got any. 



xvn. 

Sometimes, indeed, like soldiers off parade, 

They break their ranks and gladly leave the drill ; 

But then the rolUcall draws them back afraid. 
And they must be or seem what they were : still 

Doubtless it is a brilliant masquerade; 

But when of the first sight you have had your fUl, 

It palls — at least it did so upon me. 

This paradise of pleasure and ennui. 



XVIII. 

When we have made our love, and gamed our gaming, 
Dress'd, voted, shone, and, may be, something more ; 

With dandies dined ; heard senators declaiming; 
Seen beauties brought to market by the score. 

Sad rakes to sridder husbands chastely taming; 
There 's little left but to be bored or bore. 

Witness those '* ci-devant jeunes hommes^* who stem 

The stream, nor leave the world which leaveth them. 



XIX. 

'T is said — indeed a general complaint — 
That no one has succeeded in describing 

The mande, exactly as they ought to paint : 
Some say, that authors only snatch, by bribing 

The porter, some slight scandals strange and <s^^\»l^ 
To furnish matter for their moT^X ^\V)»\w%\ 

Aud that their books have but one sl^\d vn ^oisiToofi^ 
Mjr lady*8 prattle^ filtered through \i«t -vom^a. 




DDK JCAK. 




But Uiu eaa't well be true, just 

An OTOWQ of the hem monde 

I'm ■■ — *^*'— 



Whydoflnir 

or wlwt tha^ daoM tb 
The ital porbmit ofOiB hi>h«t tot 
T IB Oat, ia fiwt, tb«a "k litfB to 



itevpam^" but liiD aft a^ MuL l> 

Now I could mndi more te«lf iketa a kaw^ 

A batllp, wreck, or history of the heart, 
Than these things ; and beside^ I M-iah to spare 'era. 

For rcaauna which 1 choose to keep apart. 
" Veiabo Cereris taenan qui vulgarit" — 
Which means, that vulgar people must not share it. 



And therefore what I throw off ia ideal— 

Lower'd, Icavcn'd, tike a history of freema.ioiu ; 

Which bears the same relation to the real. 

As Captain Pnrry's voyage may do to Jasoo's. 

The grand Arcanum 's not for men to see all ; 
My music has some mj'slic diapasons ; 

And there is much which could not be appreciated 

In any manner by tiie uniaitiated. 



Alaa ! worids fall — and woman, since she fell'd 
The world (as, since that history, less polite 

Than true, hath been a creed so strictly heldj 
Haa not yet given up the practice quite. 

Poor Ihiug of usages ! coerced, compell'd. 

Victim when wrong, and martyr oft when ri^i^ 

Condemn'd to c\iv\d.bed, &a ««.» toi ftna^ ivo» 

Hare ahaving too entaffd avwa *w« •iamii — 



OAirroxiT. DON jVAif. 441 



ZXIT. 

A daily plague, which in the aggregate 

May average on the whole with parturition. 

But as to women, who can penetrate 

The real sufferings of their she condition? 

Man's very sympatliy with their estate 

Has much of selfishness and more suspicion. 

Their love, their virtue, beauty, education. 

But form good housekeepers, to breed a nation. 



ZXY. 

All this were very well, and can't be better ; 

But even this is difficult, Heaven knows, 
So many troubles from her birth beset her, 

Such small distinction between friends and foes, 
The gilding wears so soon from off her fetter, 

Tliat but ask any woman if she 'd choose 

(Take her at thirty, that is) to have been 
Female or male ? a schoolboy or a queen ? 



XXVI. 

** Petticoat influence " is a great reproach, 

Which even those who obey would fain be thought 

To fly from, as from hungry pikes a roach ; 

But since beneath it upon earth we are brought. 

By various joltings of life's hackney coach, 
I for one venerate a petticoat — 

A garment of a mystical sublimity, 

No matter whether russet, silk, or dimity. 



XX vn. 

Much I respect, and much I have adored. 

In my young days, that chaste and goodly veilf 

Which holds a treasure, like a miser's hoards 
And more attracts by all it doth conceal — 

A golden scabbard on a Damasque sword, 
A loving letter with a mystic 8ea\, 

A cure for grief — for what can ever TatiAs^e 
Before a petticoat and peeping ankXel 



\ 



Aad when opon k silent, nullen day. 
With It sirocco, for eiiaruple, Mowing, 

When even the «ea looks dim with nil its apray* 
And sulkily the river's ri)iple *a flowing. 

And the sky shows that very ancieni gray, 
I'he sober, sad antithesis to glowing, — 

'T is pluaaant, iflhtm any thing is plcnsnnti 

To catch a glimpse even of k pretty poasant. 



Wc left our homes and our heroiiieM 
In that fait cUnie which don't depand at 

Quite ind^nndent of tha KodiftC'i 0^11% 
Though certainly more diflicnti to riiyme a 

Because the sun. ami stars, iind aii^iit tiiiit sbinc^ 

Mountains, and all we can be most subltaw at. 
Are there oft dull and dreary as a dun — 
Whether a sky's or tradesman's ia all one. 



An in-door life is less poetical ; 

And out of door hath showers;, and mists, and ri 
With which i could not brew a pastoral. 

But be it as it may, a bard must meet 
All difficulties, whether great or small. 

To spoil his undertaking or complete. 
And work away like spirit upon matter, 
Embarrass'd somewhat both with fire and watar* 



Juan ■— in this respect, at least, like saints — 
Was all things unto people of all sorts. 

And lired contentedly, without complaint% 
In camps. In ships, in cottages, or courts— 

Dom with that happy soul which seldom fiunt^ 
And minting modestly io toils or sporta. 

Ha li^wiaa ccMld be moA Vt&n^\n «i^ 1^ 

Without tbe ctocoBibE? (Ac«toia»k*« 



■^ 



SAirro SIT. DON JVAir. 144 

xxxn 
A fox-hunt to a foreigner is strange ; 

T is also subject to the double danger 
Of tumbling first, and having in exchange 

Some pleasant jesting at the awkward stranger 
But Juan had been early taught to range 

The wilds, as doth an Arab turn'd avenger, 
So that his horse, or charger, hunter, hack, 
Knew that he had a rider on his back. 



xxxni. 
And now in this new field, with'some applause, 

He clear'd hedge, ditch, and double post, and rail, 
And never craned,* and made but few ^*faux pas^^* 

And only fretted when the scent 'gan fail. 
He broke, 't is true, some statutes of the laws 

Of hunting — for the sagest youth is frail ; 
Rode o'er the hounds, it may be, now and th^n, 
And once o'er several country gentlemen. 

XXXIV. 

But on the whole, to general admiration 

He acquitted both himself and horse : the squires 
Marvel! 'd at merit of another nation ; 

The boors cried " Dang it ! who 'd have thought it ? " — 
The Nestors of the sporting generation, [Sires, 

. Swore praises, and recall'd their former fires ; 
The huntsman's self relented to a grin, 
And rated him almost a whipper-in. 

XXXV. 

Such were his trophies — not of spear and shield, 
But leaps, and bursts, and sometimes foxes' brushes ; 

Yet I must own, — although in this I yield 
To patriot sympathy a Briton's blushes, — 

He thought at heart like courtl}' Chesterfield, 
Who, afler a long chase o'er hills, dales, bushes, 

And what not, though he rode beyond all price, 

Ask'd next day, ** If men ever hunted ttoice f " 

* Craning. — **To crane*^ ifi, or was, an expremdon uped to denote a genfle- 
man's si retelling outhia neck over a hedge, "to look before helenpe.i:" — a 
pause in hii ^ vaulting ambition,'* which in the field doth occaHioii Rome delay 
and execration in those who may be immediately behind the equestrian aeft'^^ikic^. 
•* Sir, ii' you don't choose to take the leap, let me '." — viwi ^\^avkv^ vJN^vVi^Xkfc- 
nJly sent the aspini/it on again ; and to good pwrpow *. fox vVvow^ ^ >\^ \vot» 
mnd rider'* might fkU, they made a gap, througVi v«bic\i, wAoNwVs^aa^ ^»a.\am 
-^--i, the &eld might /oiiow 




He tbo Imu) a quntity uncomnion 
To tmilj risers aricr a lung chaw, 

Who wake in winter ere tW cock can 

December's lirowsy day to liis dull race, — 

A qnality agreeable to wuiitao, 

Wben bet soil, liquid words run od apoce^ 

Who Ukei a listener, whether suiut or si 

Bn did not lall aalaop juU aiW duuur j 



Bnt, light and uiy, rtood on &■ akclf 

And riwne in the belt part of (fialum 
By hurooaring ahraya what tbxrf m^gat hhI^ 

And listening to the topics moat in Togne ;' 
Now grave, now gay, but never dull or pert ; 

And smiling but in secret — cunning rogue' 
He ne'er presum'd to make an error clearer; — • 
In short, there never was a better hearer. 



And then he danced ; — all foreiencra ezoel 
The serious Angles in their eloquence 

Of pantomime; — he dtinced, I say, right well. 
With emphasis, and also with good sense — 

A tbing in footing indispensable; 

He danced without theatrical pretence, 

Not like a ballel-mastcr in the van 

Of hia drilt'd nymphs, but like a gentleman. 



Chaste were his steps, each kept within due boundt 
And elegance was sprinkled o'er his figure ; 

Like swift Camilla, he scarce skimm'd the grOund( 
And rather held in than put forth his vigour ; 

And then he had an ear for music's sound. 
Which might defy a crotchet critic's rigour. 

Such classic pO< — SOIU fta-wa — ae^ *iS Q«w \«»», 

He glanced like a petBonvtwi \WWto \ 



DON JUAir. 



Or, like a flying Hour before Aurora, 
In Guido's lamous fresco, which alone 

la worth a tour to Rome, although no more a 

Remnant were there of the old world's sole throne 

The " tout ensetnble " of his niovementa wore a. 
(iTttce of the soft ideal, seldom shown, 

And ne'er to be described; for to the dolour 

Of bards and prosers, words are void of colour. 



No marvel then he was a favourite ; 

A full-grown Cupid, very much admired ; 
A little spoil'd, but by no means so quite ; 

At least he kept his vanity retired. 
Such was hia tact, he could alike delight 

The chaste, and those who are not so much inspired. 
The Duchess of Fitz-Fulke, who loved " iracatterie^' 
Began to treat him with some email " agacerie." 



Sh« was a fine and somewhat full-blown blonde. 

Desirable, dislinguish'd, celebrated 
For several winters in the grand, grand mtmde, 

I 'd rather not say what might be related 
Of her exploits, for this were ticklish ground ; 

Besides there might be falsehood in what 'a stated] 
Her late performance had been a dead set 
At Lord Augustus Fitz-Planto genet. 



This noble personage began to look 
A little black upon this new flirtation ; 

But such small licences must lovers brook, 
Mere freedoms of the femnle corporation. 

Woe to the man who ventures a rebuke ! 
T will but precipitate a situalion 

Extremely disagreeable, but common 
To calcalaton, when they count on 



Tbe circle sinil'i}. then whixpcr'd, an4 then mmmxt'iIs 
The Mimra bridled, mntl Ifio mnlrjiw Trowii'd ; 

Some hoped things mighl nol turn out me ihcj- leal 
Some would not deem Buch tromea euuld be fuuMli 

Some ne'er bdiered one hnlfurnbat thcv Imrd ; 
Some toolc'd perplex'd, and othera look'd {truloundi 

And several pitied with aiocere regret ^k 

Ptmr Lord Auguslus Pitx-PlantageneL ^M 



Itiit, what is odd, nooA ever named tht> dnke, 
Who, one might think, vtu vamnthins in Uw ol 

Tnie, he was al^ent, and 't «iw moraurdt booh 
Bui small concern about the wbMi, or wh*n^ 

Or wbal Kia consorl did : if he could bmok 
Her gaieties, none had a right to stare ; 
Theirs was that hest of unions, past all doubt, 
Which never meets, and therefore can't Ml out. 



But, oh ! that I should erer pen bo sad a line ! 

Fired with an abstract love of virtue, she, 
Hy Dian of the Ephesians, Lady Adeline, 

Began to think the duchess' conduct free ; 
Regretting much that she had chosen so had a linc^ 

And waxing chiller in her courtesy, 
LookM grave and pale to see her friend's fragility, 
For which most friends rejterre their sensibihtjr 



There 's nought in this bad world like gjmpathjt 
"T is so becoming to the soul and face, 

Seta to soft music the harmonious sigh, 

And robes sweet friendship in a Brusaefa lace. 

Without a friend, what were humanitj-, 
To hunt oar errora Dp with a good grace T 

ConstJing OB with — ''W<nM'^im.\M&\laiiMi^t«iDB.| 

Abt if yonlwdlHittoBoii'&ius ^AtwaX" 



ms 



ft* 



CAMTO XIT. DON JUAN* 447 

Job ! you had two friends : one 's quite enough. 
Especially when we are ill at ease ; 

They 're but bad pilots when the weather 's rough, 
Doctors less famous for their cures than fees. 

Let no man grumble when his friends fall off, 
As they will do like leaves at the first breeze : 

When your affairs come round, one way or t' other. 

Go to the coffee-house, and take another.* 

XLIX. 

But this is not my maxim : had it been, 

Some heart-aches had been spared me : yet I care not -— 

1 would not be a tortoise in his screen 

Of stubborn shell, which waves and weather wear not : 
T is better on the whole to have felt and seen. 

That which humanity may bear, or bear not : 
T will teach discernment to the sensitive. 
And not to pour their ocean in a sieve. 

L. 

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, 

Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast. 

Is that portentous phrase, " I told you so," 
Utter'd by friends, those prophets of the past. 

Who, 'stead of saying what you now should do, 
Own they foresaw that you would fall at last, 

And solace your slight lapse 'gainst *^bono8 moreSf* 

With a long memorandum of old stories. 

LI. 

The Lady Adeline's serene severity 

Was not confined to feeling for her friend, 
Whose fame she rather doubted with posterity, 

Unless her habits should begin to mend : 
But Juan also shared in her austerity, 

But roix'd with pity, pure as e'er was penn'd : 
His inexperience moved her gentle ruth. 
And (as her junior by six weeks) his youth. 

* In Swift*! or Horack Walpole*8 Letttn, I think it is mentioned that 
■omebody, rcgrrettinff the lom of a friend, was answered by an univental Pyludes : 
•* When I lose one, I eo to the Saint James's Coffee-house, and take another.'* 

I recollect having heard an anecdote of the same kind. — Sir W. I). w«9& ^ 
creat gamester Coroinc in one day to the club o{ viVucYvYve v.tx% ^ t«v%Tc^^«l^\k» 

COUK^a^MR^ ^»* 

loiaier afUw querist 




DON IV xy. 



These forty days' ndretitnge of Iwr year* — 

And hers were tbom which can face cnlculatioilr 

Boldly rcterring (o ihp list of poors. 

And noble birtlM, nor dnoA Iho iMiumcnUion -^ 

Gave her a right to have mittornal fcnn 
For a young genllcmitn's &t cditcntion. 

Though Dhe »aa fnr from that loop yn-nr, wbose 

In (emaie dales, strike* TinM all of a hrnp. 



This may be &x'i at somewbe Kfore thirty — 
Say sefen-and- twenty ; for lever knew 

The strictest in chronalogy anu irirUM 

Advance bej-ond, while they ciiuld pass for new. 

O Time ! wliy dosi not pau^c ? 'I'liy sr.y ch^ so dirty 
With rust, should surely cease to hack and hew 

Reset it ; shave more smoothly, also slower, 

IT but to keep thy credit as a mower. 



1 

\Wtr ^^ 



But Adeline was far from that ripe ojeie, 
Whose ripeness is but bitter at the best: 

T was rather her experience made her sage, 
For she had seen the world, and stood its teat. 

As f have said in — I forget what page ; 

Hj Muse despises reference, as you have guessed 

liy this time ; — but strike six from seven-and>tweBt]f 

Jji6 you will find her sum of years in plenty. 



At sixteen she came out ; presented, raunte^ 
She put all coronels into commotion : 

At seveuteen, too, the world was still enchanted 
With the new Venus of their brilliant ocean: 

At eighteen, though below her feet still panted 
A hecatomb of suitors with devotion, 

She tiad consented to citskto «^\a 

Hat Adam, o^led " Tto \>»¥¥wA «S m«^* 



CANTO xnr. Div JUAN. <.4t> 



LVI. 

Since then she had sparkled through three glowing winters, 

Admired, adored ; but also so correct, 
That she had puzzled all the acutest hinters, 

Without the apparel of being circumspect : 
They could not even glean the slightest splinters 

From off the marble, which had no defect. 
She had also snatch'd a moment since her marriage 
To bear a son and heir — and one miscarriage. 

LVII. 

Fondly the wheeling firc-flies flew around her, 
Those httle glitterers of the London night ; 

But none of these posscssM a sting to wound her— 
She was a pitch beyond a coxcomb's flight. 

Perhaps she wish'd an aspirant profonnder ; 
But whatsoe'er she wisli'd, she acted right ; 

And whether coldness, pride, or virtue, dignify 

A woman, so she's good, what does it signify ? 

LVIII. 

I hate a* motive, like a lingering bottle 

Which with the landlord makes too long a stand. 

Leaving all-claretless the unmoisten'd throttle. 
Especially with politics on hand ; 

I hate it, as I hate a drove of cattle. 

Who whirl the dust as simooms whirl the sand* 

I hate it, as I hate an argument, 

A laureate's ode, or servile peer's ** content." 

ux. 

T is sad to hack into the roots of things, 

They are so much intertwisted with the earth * 

So that the branch a goodly verdure flings, 
I reck not if an acorn gave it birth. 

To trace all actions to their secret springs 
Would make indeed some melancholy mirth ; 

But this is not at present my concern. 

And I refer you to wise Oxenstiern. * 

' The fiunoun Chancellor Oxenstiern said to "V\\a toT\, otv ^<^\«x\«t «vg^wirei% 
BurpriMe upon the great effects ariMne from v^Vcj c%t»«%Vv^^ V***^^ 
ofpoHtkm: •* You eee by this, my eon, ^ikkVMWt\iU\» Nr»ajam^Oo»>»»% 




DO!t ni4S. 



Witt tb« kind view or saving an Mni, 
Both (o the diichess and diplomalul. 

The Lady Adeline, un soon 's sbe caw 
TTiiil Juan was unlikuly to resist — 

(For foreigners don't know lliat Ajaaxpat 
In England ranka quite on a iliHi^rp.nl list 

Fnm those of other laiida uubliMta'd with jurieSt 

Wboae verdict for such siu a certaiD cur« is ; ^) 



Tba Lady Adeline resolved 
Soeh mewures ua she ' 
The 



thonght nngbl boM iB^iad* ] 



But innocence u 

And «inple in the world, and doth not need 
Nor use those palisades hy damea erected, 
Whose virtue lies in never being detected. 



It was not that she fear'd the very worst : 
His Grace was aa enduring, married man. 

And waa not likely all at once to burst 
Into a scene, and sHell flic clients' clan 

Of Doctors' Commons : but she drcnded first 
The mngii; of her Grace's talisman. 

And nc<ct a quarrel (as he sei-m'd to fret) 

With Lord Augustus Pilz-Plantagenet. 



Her Grace, too, pass'd for being an mtriganle. 
And somewhat viichante in her amorous sphere; 

One of those pretty, precious plagues, which haunt 
A lover with caprici^s soil and dear, 

That like to make a qunrrtl, when thr^y can't 
tind one, each duy of the delightful year ; 

Bewitching, toitunttg, aa the>^ (tceue ot s;Utw« 

And — wlttX is vonx ot bIX — Doi^Wk.'stn.^'. 



ourrn ttv. 



DOir JVAIf. i&l 



LXIV. 



Tiic sort of thing to turn a young man's headf 
Or make a Werter of him in the end. 

No wonder then a purer soul should dread 
This sort of chaste liaison for a friend ; 

it were much better to be wed or dead. 

Than wear a heart a woman loves to rend. 

T is best to pause, and think, ere you rush on. 

If that a *< bonne fortune " be really ^ bonne.^^ 



LXV. 

And first, in the o'erflowing of her heart, 

Which really knew or thought it knew no guile* 

She call'd her husband now and then apart. 
And bade him counsel Juan. With a smile 

Lord Henry heard her plans of artless art 
To wean Don Juan from the siren's wile ; 

And answer'd, like a statesman or a prophet. 

In such guise that she could make nothing of it« 



LXVI. 

Firstly, he said, " he never interfered 

In any body's business but the king's : " 
Next, that " he never judged from what appear'd. 

Without strong reason, of those sort of things : * 
Thirdly, that " Juan had more bruin than beard, 

And was not to 1x3 held in leading-strings ; " 
And fourthly, what need hardiv be said twice, 

That good but rarely came liom good advice.' 



u 



LXVII. 

And, therefore, doubtless to approve the truth 
Of the last axiom, he advised his spouse 

To leave the parties to themselves, forsooth — 
At least as far at biens^ance allows : 

That time would temper Juan's faults of youth ; 
That young men rarely made mon^uaWc no>na ^ 

That oppoeitioB only more attacViea 

But beiB 8 meascDger brought in desp«Xc\i«» \ 



Ami bein^ of tbo council call'd ■• the Privy,"* 
Lord Henry walkM into liie csbinet. 

To fumisli matter for some future Livjr 
To tell how be reduced the oalioir'a debt ; 

And if their full contenls 1 do net give ye. 
It is hecnuse I do not know tbem yet : 

But I sball ndd them in n bri< ppendix, 

To come between mine epic a iu index. 



Bat ere he went, he added ft aliglit hint, 
Another gentle common-place or two. 

Such H5 are coin'd in conversation's mint. 

And pass, for want of better, though not new; 

TTien broke bis packet, to see what was in 't, 
And having casually glanced it through. 

Retired ; and, aa he went out, calmly kiss'd her. 

Less like a young wife than nn aged sister. 



He w&s ft cold, good, honourable man. 

Proud of his birth, and proud of every thing; 

A goodly spirit for a stale divan, 
A figure &1 to walk before a king; 

Tall, stately, form'd to lead the courtly van 
On birthdays, glorious with a, star and string; 

The very model of a chamberlain — 

And such 1 mean to make him when I reign. 



But there was something wanting on the whole — 

I do n't know what, and therefore cannot tell — 

Which pretty women — the sweet souls ! — call » 

CerUa it was not body ; he was well 
Proportion'd, as a poplar or q pole, 

A handsome man, tiwX \wnv%i\ tcmm^ -, 
And in each circumslttncc otViNt w ^«s 
Ha/ atill pTC«TvcdYiiB^tyia*i«>i«- 



SANTO ST. DON JUAN. 



Lzxn. 



45& 



Still there was something wanting, as I 've said ^^ 

That undefinable ** Je ne sgais quoi^" 
Which, for what I know, may of yore have led 
. To Homer's Iliad, since it drew to Troy 
ijhe Greek Eve, Helen, from the Spartan's bed ; J 
Though on the whole, no doubt, tbe Dardan boy 
Was much inferior to King Menelaus : — 
But thus it is some women will betray us. 



Lxxni. 

Thpre is an awkward thing which much perplexes* 
Unless like wise Tiresias we had proved 

By turns the difference of the several sexes ; 

Neither can show quite Jiow they would be lovedi 

The sensual for a short time hut connects us — 
The sentimental boasts to he unmoved ; 

But both together form a kind of centaur, 

Upon whose back 't is better not to venture. 



LXXIV. 

A something all-sufficient for the Jieati 

Is that for which the sex are always seeking : 

But how to fill up that same vacant part ? 

There lies the rub — and this they are but weak in. 

Frail mariners afloat without a chart, 

They run before the wind through high seas breaking ; 

And when they have made the shore through every shocl^ 

T is odd, or odds, it may turn out a rock. 



LXXV. 

There is a flower call'd '* Love in Idleness," 

For which see Shakspeare's ever blooming garden ; 

I will not make his great description less. 

And beg his British godship's humble pardon, 

If in my extremity of rhyme's distress, 

I touch a single leaf where he is warden \ — 

But though the flower is different, V\\\\ >X\^ ^t^tij^ 

Or Swiss Rousseau, cry " YoIIgl la PenociuiUfc\'*'* 




EiR^s! I hare fixiDd it ! WfaMtBan 

T« asy ii^ not that love !■ idloaam^ 
But that in love such idleneM lua (mb 

An BcceaaOTy, aa I have cauaa to gocB. 
Hard labour *■ an indifierent go-betwaan ; 

Tour men of bnsineH an sot apt to tarn 
Much paauon, atnM the merchut^hipi tbi 
CoBT^'d Hedea om her aupercargo. 



*■ Beabu 3k proad f " from " nageHu^ 

Saith Horace ; the great little poet '■ wn>B|{ 
Hia other maxim, " Noieitur d aoeiis,^ 

l9 much iiwrR lo Ihp piiriiosp of his song ; 
Tliou;;h ev<?n that were simicliiin-s loo ferocious. 

Unless jfood company lie kept too long ; 
But, iQ liis tee(l), wli:ile't'r tlicir slate or station. 
Thrice happy they who hacc ao occupatioa ! 



Adam exchanged his Paradise for ploughing, 
Eve made up millinery wilii fig loaves^ 

The earliest koowU-dge from the tree so knowing 
As fiLr as I know, that the church receives : 

And since that time it ne<'d not cost much showing, 
That umny of the ills o'er which man jzrieres, 

And still more women, spring from not employing 

Soine hours to make the reinnaot worth enjoying. 



And hence high life is oft a dreary void, 
A rack of pleasures, where wc must invent 

A something wherewithal to he annoy'd. 

Bards lAay siag what they please alwul Contattt 

Contented, when tmni^latrd, mt-an^ hut cloy'd ; 
And hence arise \\\e wm* o? acnVvnvRTit, 

BJiie devils, and Wuc-atocVms*, i^tA idmansKs 
Reduced to practVce, ai\4 ^t&Ttrfi\&» 4Q»t«». 



CANTO SIT. 



DON JT7AN. 4&5 



LXXX. 



I do declare, upon an affidavit, 

Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen ; 
Nor, if unto the world 1 ever gave it, 

Would some believe that such a tale had been : 
But such intent 1 never had, nor have it ; 

Some truths arc better kept behind a screen. 
Especially when they would look like lies ; 
I therefore deal in generalities. 



LXXXI. 

** An oyster may be cross'd in love," — and why ? 

Because he mopcth idly in his shell. 
And heaves a lonely subterraqueous sigh, 

Much as a monk may do within his cell : 
And d-propo8 of monks, their piety 

With sloth hath found it difficult to dwell ; 
Those vegetables of the Catholic creed 
Are apt exceedingly to run to seed. 



LXXXII. 

O Wilberforce ! thou man of black renown. 
Whose merit none enough can sing or say, 

Thou hast struck one immense Colossus down. 
Thou moral Washington of ^frica ! 

But there 's another little thing, I own, 

Which you should perpetrate some summer's day, 

And set the other half of earth to rights; 

You have freed the blacks — now pray shut up the whites. 



Lxxxin. 

Shut up the bald-coot bully Alexander ! 

Ship off the Holy Three to Senegal ; 
Teach them that " sauce for goose is saKce for gander," 

And ask them how they like to be in thrall ? 
Shut up each high heroic salamander. 

Who eats fire gratis (since the pay 'a hut sw«\\\\\ 
Shut up — no, not the King, but tVie l^^iViXvoti, 
Or else 't will cost us all anothcT miWvow. 



Shot up the world at large, fet Bedlam out * 
And you will be perhaps surprised to ftai 

All ttiing» puraue exactly the same routi>. 
As now with those oCsoi-dUanl soiinil mind. 

Tbia I could prove beyond a aiogle iloubl. 
Were there a jot of sense nmong mankind ; 

Bat till timt point tTappui is rounil, aln^ < 

Lika Archimedes, I leave earth as 't was. 



Our gentle Adeline had one defect — 

Hfrr heart was vacant, thou^ a eplendld n 
Her conduct had licen perleclly correct, 

Ab sill' had sn-n noiinhl cttiimihj; its c\p{in 
A wavering spirit may be easier wreck'd. 

Because 't is frailer, doubtless, than a stanch O 
But when the latter works its own undoing. 
Its inner crash is like an earthquake's ruin. 



She loved her lord, or thought so ; but that lo 
Cost her an effort, which is a sad toil. 

The atone of Sysiphus, if once we move 
Our fpelings 'gainst Jlie nature of the soil. 

She had nothing to complain of, or reprove. 
No bickerings, no connubial turmoil: 

Their union van a model to behold, 

Serene and noble,— conjugal, bat cold. 



There was no great disparity of years, 

Though much in temper; but they never claA'di 
They moved like stars united in their spheres^ 

Or like the Rhone by Leman's wafers waah'd, 
Where mingled and yet separate appears 

The river ttora ttie \Bk«, «\\ bWly dash'd 
Through the eerene ani ipXatii tgk'^isN ftw^. 
Which tain wouW\ttU\terv>iw.(Aa\ito*«*s%. 



OUnOXXW, DON JUAK. 451 



Lzxxvni. 

Now when she once had ta'en an interest 
In any thing, however she might flatter 

Herself that her intentions were the best* 
Intense intentions are a dangerous matter: 

Impressions were much stronger than she guess'df 
And gatlier'd as they run like growing water 

Upon her mind ; the more so, as her breast 

Was not at first too readily impress'd. 



But when it was, she had that lurking demoo 
Of double nature, and thus doubly named — 

Firmness yclept in heroes, kings, and seamen, 
Tiiat is, when they succeed ; but greatly blamed 

As obstinacy, both in men and women, 

Whene'er their triumph pales, or star is tamed : — 

And 't will perplex the casuist in morality 

To fix. the due bounds of this dangerous quality. 



xc. 

Had Bonaparte won at Waterloo, 

It had been firmness ; now *t is pertinacity : 
Must the evept decide between the two ? 

I leave it to your people of sagacity 
To draw the line between the false and true. 

If such can e'er be drawn by man's capacity 
My Dusiness is with Lady Adeline, 
Who in her way too was a heroine. 



zci. 

She knew not her own heart ; then how should 1 1 
I think not she was then in love with Juan : 

If so, she would have had the strength to fly 
The wild sensation, unto her a new one : 

She merely felt a common sympathy 

(I will not say it was a false or Irue OIvc^^ 

In hiittf because she thought he was vu duxk^x^— * 

Her buabaad'e friejid, her own, yo\&B^^ acA ^ «Xt«si^sc< 



DOK JDAV. 






She waa, or thou^t she n-ns, hta friend — and tiua 
Without the faroe of friendship, or romance 

Of Plato nism, which leads so oft amiss 

Ladies who have studied friendship bat in FraBCAr 

Or Germany, where peuplu purelti kias, 
To thus much Adeline would not sdvnnce; 

But of such lricnd.-)hip as man's may to man be, 

She wa3 as capnble as woman can be. 



xcni. 

No doubt the secret influence of the sex 
Will there, as alao in the ties of Mood. 

An innocent predominance annex. 

And tune ihe concord In a tincr mood. 

If free from passion, which all friendship chocks, 
And your true feelings fully understood, 

No friend like to a woman earth discovers, 

So that you have not been nor will be loTcrs. 



Lore bears within its breast the very germ 

Of change ; and how should this be otherwiset 

T^at violent thin^ more quickly find a term 
Is shown through Nature's whole analogies ; 

And how should the moat fierce of all be firmT 
Would you have endless lightning in the skiesT 

Hethinks Love's very title says enough ; 

How should " the femler paasi<m " e'erbetoi^Af 



Alas ! by all experience, seldom yet 

(I merely quote what I have heard from many) 
Had lovers not some reason to regret 

The passion which made Solomon a zany. 
I 've also seen some wives (not to forget 

The marTiagBBla.te,ftwtea\ wKOMt ofany) 
Who were tlie very ^m^om ':S Vvm*, 
Yet mad« tlw aamevf ot fc\.\aMH.t««»V'w». 



GAMTOZnr, DON J0AV. ibB 



XCVI. 

I 've also seen some femsle friends ('t is odd. 
But true — as, if expedient, I could prove) 

That faithful were through thick and thin, abroad. 
At home, far more than ever yet was Love — 

Who did not quit me when Oppression trod 
Upon me ; whom no scandal could remove ;' 

Who fought, and fight, in absence, too, my battles^ 

Despite the snake Society's loud rattles. 



ZCYII. 

Whether Don Juan and chaste Adeline 
Grew friends in this or any other sense^ 

Will be discuss'd hereafter, I opine : 
At present I am glad of a pretence 

To leave them hovering, as the effect is fine. 
And keeps the atrocious reader in stupense $ 

The surest way for ladies and for books 

To bait their tender or their tenter hooks. 



xcvm. 

Whether they rode, or walk'd, or studied Spanish 
To read Don QuLcote in the original, 

A pleasure before which all others vanish ; 

Whether their talk was of the kind call'd ** smelly 

Or serious, are the topics I must banish 
To the next Canto ; where perhaps I shall 

Say something to the purpose, and display 

Considerable talent in my way. 



xcix. 

Above all, I beg all men to forbear 
Anticipating aught about the matter : 

They '11 only make mistakes about the fair, 
Aiid Juan too, especially the latter. 

And I shall take a much more serioua aix 
Than I have yet done, in thui e|A<" 

It tf not char that Adeline uid i< 

WW All; bat iftbey do, 't wiB 




But gmt thiogs 11111110 ffooi Ktlfe;— 
That in onr yoaHh, as dangeraai 
' r brought mui and 



Of Mjch R Kntimental nlmtioBt 
Ton 11 nerer gium, 1 11 bc4 yoa it 

ItaUi] ^ ■ • 



'T is strange — but tnis ; tor tnfli is illmyB 

Stranger than fiction : ifiteonU be toM, 
Huff much would novels gain by the exchange ; 

How diffl-rcmly the world would men behold! 
How oft wuiilil vice and virtue places change! 

The new world would be nothing to the old, 
[fsoine Culiiinbus of the momi sens 
Would show mankind their souls' antipodes. 



What « antres vast and deserts idle " then 
Would be discover'd in the human soul ! 

What icehpr;.'s in the hearl.s ofmightv men, 
With wlf-lovc in Ihe centre as their pole! 

What Anlhnipophii^i are nine of ten 

Of those who hold the kin!;dom9 in control ! 

Were Iliin^Es but only call'd by their right D&m 

Cesar himself would be ashamed of fanie. 



DON JUAN. 



CANTO THE riFTEENTH. 



I. 

Ah ! —What should follow slips from my reflectioii ; 

Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be 
As a-propos of hope or retrospection, 

As though the lurking thought had follow'd free. 
All present life is but an interjection, 

An " Oh ! " or " Ah ! " of joy or misery, 
Or a " Ha ! ha ! " or " Bah ! "— a yawn, or " Pooh ! ^ 
Of which perhaps the latter is most true. 



II. 

But, more or less, the whole 's a syncop^, 
Or a singultus — emblems of emotion. 

The grand antithesis to great ennui. 

Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean, 

That watery outline of eternity. 

Or miniature at least, as is my notion, 

Which ministers unto the soul's delight, 

In seeing matters which are out of sight* 



lU. 

But all are better than the sigh supprest. 
Corroding in the cavern of the heart, 

Making the countenance a mask of rest, 
And turning human nature to an art. 

Few men dare show their thoughts of worst or best ; 
Dissimulation always sets apart 

A corner for herself; and therefote ficWoiv 
h that which passes with least conVtii^vc^AOTi. 




a tell 1 Or ratheri who enn not 
. without telling, passion's erron T 
nw dramr ofobUvinn, even the ant. 

Hath gat blue devjN for his morning mimn t 
What though on I ethe'a stream he »ecm to (ioait 

Ha auuol tittk his tremors or his terrors ; 
Tin Tobf plniM (hat shakes within his hand 
LwvM a mi jediineiit of Time's worst sand. 



And U R* love — love ! We will 

^w L^dy Adeline Amundevitle, 
A prat^ name as one would wish to read, 

Sla^'. pcrcli harmonious on mv tuneful quilL 
rbere 'd music in the sighing of a rccd; 

There 'a music in the gushing of a rill; 
There 'a music in all things, if men had eara: 
Their earth b but an echo of the spheres. 



The Lady Adeline, right honourable. 

And honour'd, ran a risk of growing leas so ; 

For few of the soft sex are very stable 

In their resolves — nlns ! Chat 1 should say so ' 

They differ as nine differs from its lubcl, 

When once decanted ; — I presume to guMs to, 

But will not swear ; yet both upon occasion, 

Till old, may undergo adulteration. 



But Adeline was of the purest vintage, 

The unmingled essence of the grape ; and yet 
Bright as a new Napoleon from its mintage, 

Or glorious as a diamond richlv set ; 
A page where Time should hesitate to print ago, 

And for wbicVi N%lute ntv^\ totci^ twc debt- 
Sole creditoi w\«Me ptoces* 4ofti.vtwAt%\».*V 
The luck of finding w^r^ ^wi'J «*»«*- 



■"■i**^^^^^^^ 



OAilYOXT. DON J17AK. 489 



vni. 

O Death ! thou dunnest of all duns ! thou daily 
Knockest at doors, at first with modest tap, 

Like a meek tradesman when, approaching palolyt 
Some splendid debtor he would take by sap : 

But oil denied, as patience 'gins to fail, he 
Advances with exasperated rap. 

And (if let in) insists, in terms unhandsome^ 

On ready money or ^a draft on Ransomu^ 



» 



ix« 



Whatever thou takest, spare awhile poor Beauty ! 

She is so rare, and thou hast so much prey* 
What though she now and then may slip from duty. 

The more 's the reason why you ought to stay. 
Gaunt Gourmand ! with whole nations for your booty^ 

You should be civil in a modest way : 
Suppress, then, some slight feminine diseases, 
And take as many heroes as Heaven pleases* 



X. 



Fair Adeline, the most ingenuous 

Where she was interested (as was said), 

Because she was riot apt, like some of us. 
To like too readily, or too high bred 

To show it — ((>oints wc need not now discussV 
Would give up artlessly both heart and heaa 

Unto such feelings as secm'd innocent. 

For objects worthy of the sentiment. 



XI. 

Some parts of Juan's history, which Rumour, 
That live gazette, had scatter'd to disfigure. 

She had heard ; but women hear with more good humouf 
Such aberrations than we men of rigour : 

Besides, his conduct, since in England, grew more 
Strict, and his mind assumed a xnAivVvet V\^Q»>xt % 

Because he had, like Alcibiadf», 

27ie art of living in all cViniea NntVi 




B perhaps the more sedacUvei 
Because he ne'er seetn'd anxious lo eeduoe; 

Nothing aSecled, studied. Or conslructive 
Of coxcombry or conquest: no abuse 

Of his altraclLu ii "" "lir perspective^ 
To indicate a i,u|iii ; loose, 

And seem to saf, "Ri- Tyoucan"^ 

Which makes a dan spoiU a num. 



Tbey are wrong — he w&y lo set about 

As, if they told t,«; m ild well be shown. 

But right or wrong. Dor. ^....u was nillioul it ; 

In fact, his manner was his own alone : 
Sincere he was — at least you could not doubt it, 

In liHtening merely to his voice's tone. 
The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice 
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice. 



By nature sod, hia whole address held off 
Suspicion : though not timid, his regard 

Was such as rather aeem'd to keep aloof. 

To shield himself than put you on your guard: 

Perhaps 't was hardly quite assured enough, 
But modesty 's at times its own reward, 

Like virtue ; and the absence of preten 

Will go much further than there 's nee< 



Serene, accompUsh'd, cheerful but not loud ; 

Insinuating without insinuation ; 
Obeervant of the foibles of the crowd, 

Yet ne'er betraying thi» in conversation; 
Proud with the proud, yet courteously proud, 

So M to Eoake \]h«ia tebWa Vnftti hUatation 
And theirs ■, — iiiVWiA «. *to«^ W^wn*^, 
He ndther brook-'A not *iMHi4«5««sa*i. 



1 



««flTOXT. DOn JUAN. 460 

XVI. 

That is, with men : with women he was what 
They pleased to make or take him for ; and their 

Imagination 's quite enough for that : 
So that the outline 's tolerably fair, 

They fill the canvass up — and " verbum sat,** 
If once their phantasies be brought to bear 

Upon an olject, whether sad or playful, 

They can transfigure brighter than a Raphael. 

xvn, 

Adeline, no deep judge of character. 

Was apt to add a colouring from her own : 

'T is thus the good will amiably err, 

And eke the wise, as has been oflen shown. 

Experience is the chief philosopher, 

But saddest when his science is well known : 

\nd persecuted sages teach the schools 

Their folly in forgetting there are fools. 

XVIII. 

Was it not so, great Locke? and greater Bacon f 
Great Socrates ? And thou. Diviner still, * 

Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken, 

And thy pure creed made sanction of all ill ? 

Redeeming worlds to be by bigots shaken, 
How was thy toil rewarded ? We might fill 

Volumes with similar sad illustrations. 

But leave them to the conscience of the nations. 

XIX. 

I perch upon an humbler promontory, 

Amidst life's infinite variety : 
With no great care for what is nicknamed glory. 

But speculating as I cast mine eye 
On what may suit or may not suit my story, 

And never straining hard to versify, 
I rattle on exactly as I M talk 
With any body in a ride or walk. 

* A> it i> necentaiy in thene timef* to v'^id ambiguity, I My that I mean, br 
' Diviner BtilV* Christ. Ifever(«od was man — or man Gud — hewuftoM. 
I never arraigned his creed, but the use — or abuse — made of it. Mr. Ca,tuvvcw^ 
one dav qucHed Chriirtianity to sanction negro «\%^«tv, «m^ ^t.V^'&siv^o^x^A 
bad liitle to my in npiy. And was Christ cmcifiedf \n«X bV&c^ \sifeTv xtiy^x^)^ 
acoarged f If ao, he had better been bom a Mu\aUo, to ^n« VmsCgl «:ff:^0<ax» ^ 
tquaiebMora of£reedom, or at least salvaUon. 



I do n't know that there may be much abUilj 
Showa in this sort of desultory rhyme; 

But there 's a. con versa tioDal facility, 

Which may round ofTan hour upon a lime. 

Of this I 'm sure at least, lhe"i '« no servility 
In mine irregularity of chime. 

Which rings what 'a uppermost of new orhoar^. 

Just OS I feel the " Improvvii tore." 



" Omnia vult bfJIe Matho d r« — rlic nliquaado 
Et bene, die ttentruTn, die quando mate." 

The first is rather more than .iiortal can do ; 
The second may be sadly done or gaily ; 

The third is still more diflirult to stand to; 

The fourth we henr, and see, and say too, daily 

The whole together is what I could wish 

To serve in this conundrum of a dish. 



A modest hope — but modesty 's my forte. 
And pride my foible: — let us ramble on. 

I meant to make this poem very short, 

But now I can't tell where it may not run. 

No doubt, if I had wish'd to pay my court 
To critics, or to hail the telling sun 

Of tyranny of nil kinds, my concision 

Were more; — hut I was bom for opposition. 



i 



But then *t is mostly on the weaker side 

So that I verily believe if they 
Who now are basking in their full-blown pride, 



So that I verily believe if they 

lio now are basking in their full-blown prii 

Were shaken down, and " dogs had had their day,** 



Though at the first I might perchance deride 
Their tumVAe, \ a^«ltt\4 t«o the other way, 
And wax an >ilTa-to'jtfvA\&\a^d&^, 
Because I bate ©\«tt fenw^ra-Xid t<i'^ii&q. 



WAATO XT. DON JUAN. 467 



I think I should have made a decent spouse^ 
If I had never proved the sofl condition ; 

I think I should have made monastic vows. 
But for my own peculiar superstition : 

'Gainst rhyme I never should have knock'd my browi^ 
Nor broken my own head, nor that of Priscian, 

Nor worn the motley mantle of a poet. 

If some one had not told me to forego it. 



XXV. 

But ^ laissez alter " — knights and dames I sing, 
Such as the times may furnish. T is a flight 

Which seems at first to need no lofty wing, 
Plumed by Longinus or the Stagy rite : 

The difliculty lies in colouring 

(Keeping the 4ue proportions still in sight) 

With nature manners which are artificial, 

And rend'ring general that which is especial. 



XXVI. 

The diflerence is, that in the days of old 

Men made the manners ; manners now make men 

Pinn'd like a flock, and fleeced too in their fold, 
At least nine, and a ninth beside of ten. 

Now this at all events must render cold 
Your writers, who must either draw again 

Days better drawn before, or else assume 

The present, with their common-place costume. 



xxvii. 

We '11 do our best to make the best on *t : — March ! 

March, my Muse ! If you cannot fly, yet flutter ; 
And when you may not be sublime, be arch. 

Or starch, as are the edicts statesmen utter. 
We surely may find something worth research : 

Columbus found a new world in a cuUet^ 
Or brigantine, or pink, of no great lowna^'G, 
While yet Aitierica was in her non-age. 




When Adeline, in all her growing 

Of John's uLTiLs and liis ■ 
F^ on the ^'liuiii :ui li^uii'i^ 

Furtly perfaapa beeuiae a fteih 
Or that be had an air of innocence 

Which ii for innocence a nd 
Am women hate half meawnei, on the n^nbh 
She *gas to ponder how to m.!* lui HiiL 



ShehadagoodoplnuHiof adrieea ' 

Like all who give and dn reoeiTC it gcati% 
For which Nnall thanks are still Uie maiket prtoe> 

Even where the article at highest rate is: 
She thought upon the subject twice or thrice, 

And morally decided, the best stale is 
For morals, marriage ; and, tins queslion carried. 
She ticriously advised bim to get married. 



Juan replied, with all becoming deference. 
He had a predilection for that tie ; 

But that, nt present, with iinmediate reference 
To Ills own circumstances, there might lie 

Some dillicultics, as in his own preference. 
Or that of her to whom he might apply: 

That still he 'd wed with such or such a lady* 

If that they were not married alt already. 



Next to the making matches for herself^ 

And daughters, brothers, sisters, kith or kin, 

Arrangiaz ihern like books on the same ahelC 
There a nothing women love to dabble in 

More (like a stockholder in growing pelf) 
Than matc\i-ma\»Ti%'TO %cnei».l; 't is no sin 

Cartes, but a prevewlutw^ wii fti£K\.<itta 

"niKt is, no douJnl, ft« <wi^ TOuwa^^Ww&w* 



euiNTo zv. 



DOX JVAN. 46U 



xxxn. 

But never yet (except of course a miss 

Unwed, or mistress never to be wed, 
Or wed already, who object to this) 

Was there chaste dame who had not in her head 
Some drama of the marriage unities, 

Observed as strictly both at board and bed, 
As those of Aristotle, though sometimes 
They turn out melodrames or pantomimes. . 

xxxin. 

They generally have some only son, 

Some heir to a large property, some friend 
Of an old family, some gay Sir John, 

Or grave Lord Georp;e, with whom perhaps might end 
A line, and leave posterity undone. 

Unless a marriage was applied to mend 
The prospect and their morals : and besides, 
They have at hand a blooming glut of brides. 

XXXIV. 

From these thev will be careful to select. 

For this an heiress, and for that a beauty * 
For one a songstress who hath no defect. 

For t' other one who promises much duty ; 
For this a lady no one can reject. 

Whose sole accomplishments were quite a booty • 
A second for her excellent connexions ; 
A third, because there can be no objectioiib. 

XXXV. 

When Rapp the Harmonist embargo'd marriage * 
In his harmonious settlement — (which flourishes 

Strangely enough as yet without miscarriage, 

Because it breeds no more mouths than it nourishes. 

Without those sad expenses which disparage 
What Nature naturally most encourages) — 

Why callM he " Harmony " a state sans wedlock ? 

Now here I have got tiio preacher at a dead lock. 

^ This extraurdinary and flouriHhinff German colony in Amenca does not en« 
tirely exclude matrimony, as the " Shakerx " do ; but lays f uch restrictions up- 
on it as prevent more than a certain quantum of births within a certain number 
ofyearb; vihich births (as Mr. Kuhne ob»er\'es) generally «xx>n« '^'' vcv^\^^ 
flock like those of a farroer*s lambs, aU within \Yie Kime tuoiv^V^xVa.^^'' '^\«aA 
Jianoonistf (po called from th0 name of their teu\etci«t\\^ %i^ T^'^t«%«o\»^^^ 

nmarknMy fhtirmliing, juoiit, and quiet peopto. ^« Vfakft xwopoATecwi^ '^'^^Wbi^ 

OA America. 



Because lie either meant to sneer nt harmony 
Or marriage, by divurcing ttieiu thus uditly. 

But whether reverend Rapp learn 'd [liia in G> 
Or no, 't is satJ his sect is rick aotl goiilyi 

Pious and piiro, beyond what 1 can Irrni any 
Of ours, atthough they propagate muru broadly* 

My objection 'a to his title, not liia ritual, 

AJlhough I wouder bow it grew habitual. 



Bat Rapp is th« reverBe of zealous matrons. 
Who fnfour, iiialgr^ Malthus, g^nemtioD— 

Professors of that genial art, bdiI patrona 
Of all the modest part of propagation ; 

Which afler all nt sufli it dospurjlL' r.ile runs. 
That half its produce tends (o emigration, 

lliat sad result of passions and potatoes — 

Two weeds which pose our economic Catos. 



Had Adeline i«ad Malthus 1 I can't tell ; 

I wish she had : his book 's the eleventh coramandment, 
Which says. " Thou shalt not marry," unless weU .* 

This he (as far as I can understand) meant. 
*T is not my purpose on his views to dwell. 

Nor canvass what " so emlaent a hand" meant'* 
But certes it conducts to lives ascetic, 
Or turoing marriage into arithmetic 



Bat Adeline, who probably presumed 

That Juan had enough of maintenance) 
Or separate maintenance, in case 't was doom'd — 

As on the whole it is an even chance 
That bridegrooms, after they are fairly gmmCd, 

May retrograde a little in the dance 
Of marriage — (which might form a painter's fame. 
Like Holbein's " Dance of Death " — hut 't is the same) ^— 



tiftwiozv. i>ON ^Air. 471 



XL. 

But Adeline detennined Juan's wedding. 

In her own mind, and that 's enough for woman : 

But then, with whom ? There was the sage Miss Reading, 
Miss Raw, Miss Flaw, Miss Showman, and Miss Know- 

And the two fair co-heiresses Giltbedding. [man. 

She deem'd his merits something more than common 

All these were unobjectionable matches. 

And might go on, if well wound up, like watches 



XLl. 

There was Miss Millpond, smooth as summer's sea. 

That usual paragon, an only daughter. 
Who seem'd the cream of equanimity; 

Till skiinm'd — and then thure was some milk and water 
With a slight shade of blue too, it might be. 

Beneath the surface ; but what did it matter . 
Love's riotous, but marriage should have quiet. 
And being consumptive, live on a milk diet. 



xLn. 

And then there was the Miss Audacia Shoestring, 
A dashing demoiselle of good estate. 

Whose heart was fix'd upon a star or blue string ; 
But whether English dukes grew rare of late. 

Or that she had not harp'd upon the true string. 
By which such sirens can attract our great. 

She took up with some foreign younger brother, 

A Russ or Turk — the one 's as good as t' other. 



XLIII. 

And then there was — but why should I go on. 

Unless the ladies should go off? — there wa< 
Indeed a certain fair and fairy one. 

Of the best class, and better than her class,— 
Aurora Uaby, a young star who shone 

O'er life, too sweet an image for swcVv ^^^sa^ 
A lovely beings scarcely form'd or n\ov\\ie^^ 
A rose with all its sweetest \eav€^ yeX. ^vAdft^\ 



'i 



Early in yean, am 

In figure, ahe ha 

In eves which sadlv 




R!ch. noble, hut an o^ban ; led an 00I7 

Chilli tn (be care orguanltaos good and kind; 

Bat stilt b ir aspect had an air ao Tondy ! 
Blood ii not walcr ; and where sball we find 

Feelings i-.c— — 'U llir«> tt.^~. —^{cb overllvroirD lie ' 
By di B' lias ! behindi 

To feel icad homn 

Is wan ind t lh« lonb T 



r&ntilM 
[rf'aubliiiM 
iraphs' shine. 

AH youth — but wim nn aspect Iv.'voiid lime; 
Radiant and grave — as pitying man's decline; 

Mournful — but mournful of another's crime. 
She look'd as if she sat by Eden's door. 
And gricv'd for those who could return no more. 



She was a Catholic, too, sincere, austere. 
As far as her own gentle heart allow'd. 

And deem'd that fallen worship far more dear 

Perhaps because 't was fallen : her sires were proud 

Of deeds and days when they had fill'd the ear 
Of nations, and had never bent or bow'd 

To novel power; and as she was the last, 

She held their old faith and old feelings fast. 



She gazed npon a world she scarcely knew 
As seeking not to know it ; sUent, lone. 

As grows a flower, thus quietly she grew. 
And kept her heart serene within its zone. 

There was awe in the homage which she drew ; 
Her spirit aeieia'd as seated on a throne 
■ Apart from the «ino>miwi^ ^-siVi, wai a^oti^ 

In its own rtroiMSto — ™**- «^t«^ "^^ '"^ '^ iwni%> 



"■n^a^^^^j 



DON JVAV. 4T3 



XLvin. 



Now it so happen'd, in the catalogue 

or Adeline, Aurora was omitted, 
Although her birth and wealth had given hex vogue 

Beyond the charmers we have already cited ; 
Her beauty also seem'd to form no clog 

Against her being mention'd as well fitted. 
By many virtues, to be worth the trouble 
Of single gentlemen who would be double. 



XLIX. 

And this omission, like that of the bust 
Of Brutus at the pageant of Tiberius, 

Made Juan wonder, as no doubt he must. 

This he express'd half smiling and half serious; 

When Adeline replied with some disgust, 
And with an air, to say the least, imperious. 

She marvell'd " what he saw in such a baby 

As that prim, silent, cold Aurora Raby ? " 



L. 

Juan rejoin'd — "She was a Catholic, 

And therefore fittest, as of his persuasion ; 

Since he was sure his mother would fall sick, 
And the Pope thunder excommunication. 

If " But here Adeline, who seem'd to pique 

Herself extremely on the inoculation 

Of others with her own opinions, stated — 

As usual — the same reason which she late did 



LI. 

And wherefore not ? A reasonable reason. 
If good, is none the worse for repetition ; 

If bad, the best way 's certainly to team) ouy 
And amplify : you lose much by concision 

Whereas insisting in or out of season 
Convinces all men, even a politician ; 

Or — what is just the same — it v^eaTvea o\il% 

80 the end 's gain'd, what sigm&ea tVi^ tomVaX 




Don rvkJi, 



ITAjf Adeline hud this slight pnjpdiQA — 
For prejudice it wna — ogninst a creature 

As pure aa sanclit)' itself from vice, 

Witb all the added charm of rortn and {oatnni 

For tne appenrs a question far too nice. 
Since Adeline was liberal bv nature ; 

But nature 'a nnture, and has luore caprice* 

Thau I have time, or will, to take to piece*- 



Perhaps elie did not like the quiet way 

With which Aurora on (hose baubtea look'dlt 

Which charm most people in their earlier day i 

For there are feiv things by manliind less hrook'^r" 

And womankind too, if we so may say, 

Than finding thus their genius stand rebuked. 

Like ** Anthony's by Ciesar," by the few 

Who look upon them aa they ought to do 



It was not envy — Adeline had none ; 

Her place was far beyond it, and her mind. 
It was not scorn — which could not light on ons 

Whose greatest yiiuZl was leaving few to find. 
It was not jealousy, I think : but shun 

Following the ■■ i^ne» fdtui" of mankind. 

It was not but 't is easier far, alas ! 

To say what it was not than what it was. 



Little Aurora deetn'd she waa the theme 

Ofsuch discussion. She was there a gueai- 

A beauteous ripple of the brilliant stream 

or rank and youth, though purer than the res^ 

Which flow'd on for a moment in the beam 

Time aheds a moment o'er each aparkling crest. 

Had she kooivn &\a, ^tve ^im\& Va.-sti ci^ts^ v^bad- 

Sbe had bo mucb, ot &\Aa, <ii i^ <ii^^ 



N^^I 



9unoxf. 



DON JVAlf. * 475 



LVI. 

The dashing and proud air of Adeline 
Imposed not upon her : she saw her blaze 

Much as she would have seen a glow-worm shioe^ 
Then tum'd unto the stars for loftier rays. 

Juan was something she could not divine, 
Being no sibyl in the new world's ways ; 

Yet she was nothing dazzled by the meteor. 

Because she did n'ot pin her faith on feature. 



Lvn. 

His fame too, — for he had that kind of fame 

Which sometimes plays the deuce with womankind 

A heterogeneous mass of glorious blame. 

Half virtues and whole vices being combined ; 

Faults which attract because they are not tame ; 
Follies trick'd out so brightly that they blind : — 

These seals upon her wax made no impression, 

Such was her coldness or her self-possession 



Lvin. 

Juan knew nought of such a character — 
High, yet resembling not his lost Haid^e ; 

Yet each was radiant in her proper sphere : 
The island girl, bred up by the lone sea. 

More warm, as lovely, and not less sincere. 
Was Nature's all : Aurora could not be. 

Nor would be thus : — the difference in them 

Was such as lies between a flower and genu 



LIZ. 

Having wound up with this sublime comparison* 
Met h inks we may proceed upon our narrative. 

And, as my friend Scott says, " I sound my warison ; *• 
Scott, the superlative of my comparative — 

Scott, who can paint your Christian knight or Saracen, 
Serf, lord, man, with such skill as none vfQ\M.^^\^\X.oSL 

There had not been one ShakspeoiTe and N c\\»kE^ 

Of one or both of whom he teems tiiveWu. 



I say, in my slight way I mny proceed 
To play upon the surface of tnunanity, 

I write the world, nor care if the u-ortd nod. 
At least for thii I cannot Rpare its vanity. 

My Muse hath breil, and slill p**'hnpa mny breed 
More foes by this same scroll ; wben I began it, l 

Thought that it might turn out so — note I kitmo it, 1 

But aiill I am, or was, a pretty poet. 



The conference or congret it ended 

Aa confesses of lale do) le Ladf 

Adeline and Don Juan rather l . tndtsd 

SoiiH- uckis wilh lliP sii'eels— lor -.he wfi^ heady; 
But, ere the matter could be marr'd or mended, 

The silvery bell rung, not for "dinner ready," 
But for that hour, call'd half-hour, given to dress. 
Though ladies' robes seem scoot enough for less. 



Great things were now to be achieved at table. 
With massy plate for armour, knives and forka 

For weapons; but what Muse since Homer 'e atJe 
(His ft:asls are not the worst part of his woriis> 

To draw up in array a single day. bill 

Of modern dinners ? where more mystery lurlu. 

In soups or sauces, or a sole ragoAt, 

Than witches, b— ches, or physicioiu, bretr. 



y 



There wai a goodly "soupn & la borme femae," 

Though God knows whence it came from ; there mM, toOi 

A turbot for relief of those who cr%m. 
Relieved with "dindoo il la Parigeux; " 

There also was the sinner that I am ! 

How abaU I get Uua zwiTnuod stanza through T ^ 

« Soupe k A* Beattfewi? ^\«wft T^eS w»» iars, 

ReUeved itadf^J yxii^Ssx ^xaSxt i^ot^- 



nr. DON JUAN. 477 

LXIV. 

But I must crowd all into one grand mess 

Or mass ; for should I stretch into detail, 
My Muse would run much more into excess, 

Than when some squeamish people deem her fraiL 
But though a ** bonne vivante," I must confess 

Her stomach 's not her peccant part ; this tale 
However doth require some slight refection 
Just to relieve her spirits from dejection. 

LXV. 

Fowls " k la Cond6," slices eke of salmon. 

With "sauces G^n6voises," and haunch of venison; 

Wines too, which might again have slain young Ammon -^ 
A man like whom I hope we sha'n*t see many soon ; 

They also set a glazed Westphalian ham on, 
Whereon Apicius would bestow his bcnison ; 

And then there was champagne with foaming whirls. 

As white as Cleopatra's melted pearls. 

LXVI. 

Then there was God knows what " k I'Allemande," 
«* A TEspagnole," "timballc," and "salpicon" — 

With things I can't withstand or understand, 

Though swallow'd with much zest upon the whole ; 

And " entremets " to piddle with at hand, 
Gently to lull down the subsiding soul ; 

While great Lucullus' Robe triumphal muffles — [truffles.* 

{There '* fame) — young partridge fillets, dcck'd with 

LXVII. 

What are the Jillets on the victor's brow 

To these ? They are rags or dust. Where is the arch 

Which nodded to the nation's spoils below ? 
Where the triumphal chariots' haughty march t 

Gone to where victories must like dinners go. 
Farther I shall not follow the research : 

But oh ! ye modern heroes with your cartridges, 

When will your names lend lustre e'en to partridges? 

" A dish ** a la Liieulliu/* This hero, who conquered the Ea«t, has left hia 
more extended celebrity to the tranRphintation of cherries ^which he first brought 
into Europe), and the nomenclature of some very gooA A\»\\ei%\— ^\A\^\«w\«?. 
rare that { barring indigeBtion) he haa not done mot^ aenXc.^ \o ^^'^J^^'^^J^TJ^^ 
eookBry tbatt by hia cnnqueau. A cherrv-XT©© lu^^ vj^m^ t^^vwX%.\»iw>«^ 
itun/: beaidea, he liaa contrived to cam cclebnlY tiwaVsoviv. 



BOM JVAy, 



Ttioae truffles too arc no l>ad accessories, 

Follow'J by " petits puils d'amour " — a disti 

Of which perhaps the wttkery rather varies, 
So every one may d«>s8 it to hie wi«h, 

Accanling lo the beat or dictionaries. 

Which cncyulo|)cdtzti both flesh and 63)1 ; 

But even sans "confiturcui," it no irsa true is, 

Tliere 'a pretty picking ia thow "[lelits puits."* 



The mind is lost in mighty contemplation 
or intellect expanded on two coiiraen; 
And indigestion's grand rnaltigiltcation 
„ Requires arilhTDeiic bi»v>nd mv forces. 

1 Who "oiilii siipjiLisc, iViini Ailiirii'.^ nirtipl.' radon. 

That cookery could have caD'd forth such resourceii 
As form a science and a nomenclature 
From out the commonest demands of nature^ 



The glasses jingled, and the palates tingled ; 

The diners of celebrity dined well ; 
The ladies with more moderation mingled 

In the feast, pecking less than I can tett ; 
Also the younger men (00 : for a springald 

Can't, like ripe age, to gormandize excel, 
But thinks less of good ealing than the whisper 
(When seated nest him) of some pretty lisper. 



Alas! I must leave undcscribed the gibier. 

The Balmi,.the consomm^, the pur^e, 
All which I use lo make my rhymes run glibber 

Tlian could roast beef in our rough John Bull iraj : 
I must not introduce even a spare rib here, 

" Bubble and squeak " would spoil my liquid lay ; 
But 1 have dined, and must forego, alas! 
The chaste descfi^Uaii even of a *• b^casse ; " 



i-' 



CAVrOZT. DON JUAN. 479 



And fruits, and ice, and all that art refines 
From nature for the service of the goftt, — 

Taste or the gouty — pronounce it as inclines 
Your stomach ! Ere you dine, the French will do ; 

Hut after, there are sometimes certain signs 
Which prove plain English truer of the two. 

Hast ever had the gout 7 I have not had it — 

But I may have, and you too, reader, dread it. 



Lxxni. 

The simple olives, best allies of wine, 
Must I pass over in my bill of fare ? 

I must, although a favourite '* plat " of mine 
In Spain, and Lucca, Athens, every where : 

On them and bread 't was oft my luck to dine. 
The grass my table.cloth, in open air. 

On Sunium or Hymettus, like Diogenes, 

Of whom half my philosophy the progeny is. 



LXXIV. 

Amidst this tumult of fish, flesh, and fowl. 
And vegetables, ail in masquerade. 

The guests were 4)laced according to their roll, 
Bui various as the various meats displayed : 

Don Juan sat next an " a TEspagnole " — 
No damsel, but a dish, as hath been said ; 

But so far like a lady, that 't was drest 

Superbly, and contain'd a world of zest. 



LXXV. 

By some odd chance too, he was placed between 

Aurora and the Lady Adeline — 
A situation difficult, I ween. 

For man therein, with eyes and heart, to dine. 
Also the conference which we have seen 

Was not such as to encourage h\m to ^Vixti^ \ 
For Adeline, addressing few words lo Vum^ 
With two transcendent eyes aeeia^d Xo \oo>l ^xo\y^^\^2K»* 




I aodiFitimeB almost think thai eres hav« eiira : 
This much ia sure, (hat, out of eureliot, things 

Are somnhow echoed to Itie pretty dcurs, 

Ot' which I cun't Icll whence their knowledge springs. 

Like [hat same mystic music ■■' the spheres 
Which no one hears, so lou f though it rtng^ 

'T is wonderTul how oft the m haso hean) 

Long dialt^es — which paara without a word ! 



Aurora sat with that iiultffiirence 

Which piques a preux chovnlier — as it ougtri 
Of all offences lliat 's (he worst fffr-npe, 

Which seems to hint you are not worth a tliougfaL 
Now Juan, though no coxcomb in pretence, 

Was not cxnctly pleased to be so caught ; 
Like a good ship entangled among ice, 
And afler so much excellent advice. 



To his gay nothings, nothing was replied. 

Or something which wag nothing, as urbanity 

Required. Aurora scarcely look'd aside, 
Nor even smiled enough for anv vanity. 

The devil was in the girl ! Could 'it be pride! 
Or modesty, or absence, or inanity 1 

Heaven knows! But Adeline's malicious eye> 

Spariited with ber eucceaaful prophecies. 



And lookM as much as if to say, " I said it ; * 
A kind of triumph I 'II not recommend, 

Because it sometimes, as I 've seen or read i^ 
Both in the case of lover and of friend. 

Will pique a gentleman, for bis own credit, 
To biing w\te,t «a« n \uV Va «. krquh end t 

For all men pro^jfecay "«\i»S. « <i* *«*. 

And hat« t\»o«i fpbo ■«atfVV\ft«sttiw»n*'(n^ 



I 



DON JUAN. 4^1 



LXZZ. 



Juan was drawn thus into some attentions. 
Slight but select, and just enough to express. 

To females of perspicuous comprehensions, 

That he would rather make them more than less* 

Aurora at the last (so history mentions, 

Though probably much less a fact than guess) 

So far relax'd her thoughts from their sweet prison, 

As once or twice to smile, if not to listen. 



LXXXI. 

From answering she began to question : this 
With her was rare ; and Adeline, who as yet 

Thought her predictions went not much amiss. 
Began to dread she M thaw to a coquette — 

So very difficult, they say, it is 

To keep extremes from meeting, when once set 

In motion ; but she here too much refined — 

Aurora's spirit was not of that kind. 



Lxxxn. 

But Juan had a sort of winning way, 

A proud humility, if such there be, 
Which show'd such deference to what females say, 

\s if each charming word were a decree. 
His tact, too, tcmper'd hi in from grave to gay. 

And taught him when to be reserved or free : 
He had the art of drawing people out. 
Without their seeing what he was abcut. 

Lxxzni. 

Aurora, who in her indifference 

Confounded him in common with the crowd 
Of flatterers, though she deem'd he had more sense 

Than whispering foplings, or than witlings loud — 
Commenced (from such slight things will great commence) 

To feel that flattery which attracts the ^tOMd 
Rather by deference than compViroenl^ 
And wins even by a delicate disaenl. 



And them be had good looks ; — that point wu e 
Nem. con. amongst the womon, which I griove 

To any leiula ol\ to crim, eon, with (he mnrricd — j 
A c&ie which to the juries we m&y leave. 

Since with digressions we too long hnve Inrricd. 
Nuw thuugli we know of old that looks deceive^ 

And ulwajs have done, Eoniehow these good looks 

Ma.ke aiore impcessioa than the best orbook 



Aurora, who lookM more on liooka than faeei^ 
Was very yonne', although so very stigA, 

Admiring ifnuv Minerva than the Graoe^ 
EspeciallT upon a printed pagie. 

But Virtue's aeir. with nil )i.-r lil;lil,-;t Inr-s. 

Has not the natural stnys of strict old age; 
And Socrates, that model of all duty, 
Own'd to a penchant, though discreet, for beauty. 



And girls of sixteen are thus far Socratic, 

But innocently so, as Socrates ; 
And really, if the sage sublime and Attic 

At seventy years hnd phantasies like these. 
Which Plato in his dialogues dramatic 

Has »hown, 1 know not why they should displem 
In virgins — always in a modest way, 
Observe; for that with me 's a " sine quft."" 



Also observe, that, like the great Lord Coke 
(See Littleton), whene'er 1 have expreas'd 

Opinions two, which at first sight may look 
Twin oppoaites, the second is the best. 

Perhaps I have a third too, in a nook, 

Or none at all — which seems a sorry je«t : 

But if a writer should be quite consistent. 

How could he ^QaaM^ b\iow VVvb^ «,iL\stentt 



MW» DOir JUAH 



If people contradict themselves, can I 

Help contradicting them, and every body. 

Even my veracious self? — But that 's a lie : 
I never did so, never will — how should I 7 

He who doubts all things nothing can deny : 

Truth's fountains may be clear — her streams are muddyi 

And cut through such canals of contradiction. 

That she must bflten navigate o'er fiction. 



Lxxxn. 

Apologue, fable, poesy, and parable. 

Are false, but may be render'd also true 

By those who sow then in a land that 's arable, 
'T is wonderful what fable will not do ! 

'T is said it makes reality more bearable : 
But what 's reality ? Who has its clue? 

Philosophy ? No : she too much rejects. 

Religion ? Yes ; but which of all her sects ? 



xc. 

Some millions must be wrong, that 's pretty cleai ; 

Perhaps it may turn out that all were right. 
God help us ! Since we 've need on our career 

To keep our holy beacons always bright, 
'T is time that some new pro|)hct should appear, 

Or old indulge man with a second sight. 
Opinions wear out in some thousand years, 
Without a small refreshment fiom the spheres. 



xci. 

Bat her again, why will. I thus entangle 
Myself with metaphysics ? None can hate 

So much as I do any kind of wningle ; 
And yut, such is my folly, or my fate, 

I always knock my head against some angle 
About the present, past, or future stal^ \ 

Yet I wish well to Trojan and to Tvimii, 
For I waB bred a moderate Presby ^efvun% 



But Ihongh I ftm a temperate theolopan. 

And olso meek as n melaphysicjan. 
Impartial between Tynan and Tr^an 

Ab Eldon on a lunatic commisBion, — • 
In politics my duty ia to show John 

Bull something of the lower world's condition. 
It makes my blood boil like the springs of Hecta* 
To see men let these scoundrel sovereigna break b 



But politics, and policy, and pietyi 

Are topics which I sometimes introduce,! 

Not only for the sake of their varielVi 
But as subservient (o a moral use ; 

Because my business is to drest society. 

And stuff with gage that very verdant gooae. 

And now, 'that we may furnish with some matter alt 

Tastes, we are going to try the supernatural. 



And now I will give up all argument ; 

And positively henceforth no temptation 
Shall " fool me to the top up of my bent;" — 

Yes, I 'II begin a thorough reformation. 
Indeed, I never knew what people meant 

By deeming that my Muse's conversation 
Was dangerous ; — I think she is as harmless 
As some who labour more and yet may charm k 



Grim reader ! did yon ever see a ghost T 

No; but you 've heard — 1 understand — be dumb* 
And do n't regret the time you may have lost, 

For you have got that pleasure still to come : 
And do not think I mean to sneer at most 

Of these t\i\o^ av by ridicule benumb 
lliat source ci!t.\ie«a\Aimei wq&<i^^-^Ai«ve<nk\ — 
for ceitun tpmoob ray Woft^Sa wsvau. v.i: 



QUnOXf. DON JUAN* 48h 



xcvu 

Serious ? You laugh ; — you may : that will I not 
My smiles must be sincere or not at all. 

I say I do believe a haunted spot 

Exists — and where ? That shall I not recall, 

Because I 'd rather it should be forgot, 

'* Shadows the soul of Richard " may appal. 

In short, upon that subject I 've some qualms very 

Like those of the philosopher of Malmsbury.* 

xcvn. 

The night — (1 sing by night — aametimes an owl. 
And now and then a nightingafle) — is dim, 

And the loud shriek of sage Minerva's fowl 
Rattles around me her discordant hymn : 

Old portraits from old walls upon me scowl -^ 
I wish to heaven they would not look so grim ; 

The dying embers dwindle in the grate — 

I think too that I have sate up too late : 

xcvni. 

And therefore, though 't is by no means my way 
To rhyme at noon — when I have other things 

To think of, if I ever think — I say 

I feel some chilly midnight shudderings» 

And prudently postpone, until mid-day, 
Treating a topic which, alas ! but brings 

Shadows ; — but you must be in my condition 

Before you learn to call this superstition. 

xcix. 

Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 

'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge. 

How little do we know that which we are ! 
How less what we may ba' T'le ternal surge 

Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar 
Our bubbles ; as the old burst, new emerge, 

Lash'd from the foam of ages ; while the graves 

Of empires heave but like some passing waves. 

Hohbea: wbOf doubting of his own so\i\. p«v6l l\i«X cx>Tcv\»>ax{v«cv\\»'^A, 



DON JUAH 



CANTO THE SIXTEENTH. 



Thk antique Persians taught three useful things. 
To draw the bow, to ride, and speak the truth* 

This was the mode of Cyrus, best of kings — 
A mode adopted since by modern youth. 

Bows have they, generally with two strings . 
Horses they ride without remorse or ruth ; 

At speaking truth perhaps they are less clever, 

But draw the long bow better now than ever. 



II. 

The cause of this effect, or this defect, — 

" For this effect defective comes by cause,*' — 

Is what I have not leisure to inspect ; 
But this I must say in my own applause, 

Of all the Muses that I recollect, 

Whate'er may be her follies or her flaws 

In some things, mine 's beyond all contradictioo 

The most sincere that ever dealt in fiction. 



III. 

And as she treats all things, and ne'er retreats 
From any thing, this epic will contain 

A wilderness of the most rare conceits. 
Which you might elsewhere hope to find in vain. 

*T is true there be some bitters with the sweets, 
Yet mix'd so slightly, tnat you can't complaiiti 

But wonder they so few are, since m^ tB\<^\]^ 

'^ De rebus cunctis et qtubuadaxu «Xvvi«*^ 



4A8 



DON JVA3X. 



CAKront 



IV, 



But of all truths which she has told, the most 
True is timt which she is about to tell. 

I said it was a story of a ghost — 
Wluit tlicn ? 1 onlv know it so befell. 

Have you explored the limits of the coast, 

Whf^re all tiie dwellers of the earth must dwell? 

T is time to strike such puny doubters dumb as 

The sceptics who would not believe Columbus. 



V. 



Some people would impose now with authority, 
Turpin's or Monmouth Geoffry's Chronicle ; 

Men whose historical superiority 
Is always greatest at a miracle. 

But Saint A!i*:ustine lias the pn*at priority. 
Who hids all nion bcliove the iin|)<)ssil»lc, 

lifcmisc 7 is so. Who nihhle, scribhlo, quibble, he 

Quiets at once with ** quia iinpossibile." 



VI. 



And tli'-Tcfore, niortals, cavil not at all ; 

Urlicvc : — if 't is iiiipio!)al>l<\ you must ; 
And if it is iinp()>sil)lr, you sluill : 

"r is always IhsI to laki' tilings upon trust, 
I do not sjxak profanely, to riM»all 

Tiiose liolit.T Illy^tl.'^i(.•s wliicli the wi>c and jiwl 
Receive as ixosjul, and which grow more rooted. 
As all truths must, tiie more they are disputed : 



VII. 



I merely mean to say what Johnson said, 

That in the course of some six thousand years, 

All nations have l>elieved that iVom the dead 
A visitant at intervals appears; 

And wliat is stran;re>t n[»on this strange head. 
Is, that whatever bar the reason rears 

'Gainst such \)e\k\\ vWx^i ^* vs>v>vxa^v\\\tvc», ^vxwv^x %\j<!\ 

In its behalf, \cl t\\osc <i<itv\ v.\\o V\\\, 



OAMTOXn. 



DOZf JUAN* €911 



YOU 



The dinner and the soiree too were done^ 
The supper too discuss'd, the dames admired. 

The banqueteers had dropp'd off one by one — 
The song was silent, and the dance expired : 

The last thin petticoats were vanish'd, gone, 
Like fleecy clouds into the sky retired, 

And nothing brighter gleam'd through the saloon 

Than dying tapers — and the peeping moon. 



ix. 

The evaporation of a joyous day 

Is like the last glass of champagne, without 
The foam which made its virgin bumper gay ; 

Or like a system coupled with a doubt ; 
Or like a soda bottle, when its spray 

Has sparkled and let half its spirit out ; 
Or like a billow left by storms behind, 
Without the animation of tiie wind ; 



X. 

Or like an opiate, which brings troubled rest. 

Or none ; or like — nothing that 1 know 
Except itself; — such is the human breast; 

A thing, of which similitudes can show 
No real likeness, — like the old Tyrian vest 

Dyed purple, none at present can tell how. 
If from a shell-fish or from cociiineal.* 
So perish every tyrant's robe piece-meal ! 

XI. 

But next to dressing for a rout or ball, 

Undressing is a woe ; our robe de chambre 

May sit like that of Nessus, and recall • 

Thoughts quite as yellow, but less clear than amber, 

Titus exclaim'd, " I 've lost a day ! " Of all 
The nights and days most people can remember, 

(I have bad of both, some not to be disdain'd,) 

I wish they 'd state how many they have gain'dt 

* The oompotition of the old Tyrian purole, 'vrYwvYwT Itom ^iiGk!^>^idG^^!it\s»\BL 
eochineal, or from kermen, is etill an arUrio of diftpiQXA\ wcA v<«Ok>iA«s^iae'» — 
jom# my purple^ othen acarlet : I aay nothing. 



190 1K>H JVAK. 



And Juan, on retiring for the night. 

Felt restless, and perplex'd, and compromised 
He thought Aurora Raby's eyes more bright 

Than Adeline (such is advice) advised ; 
If he had known exactly his own plight. 

He probably would have philosophized ; 
A great resource to all, and ne'er denied 
Till wanted ; therefore Juan only sigh'd. 



xni. 

He sigh'd ; — the next resource is the full moon. 
Where all sighs are deposited ; and now 

It happcn'd luckily, the chaste orb shone 
As clear as such a climate will allow ; 

And Juan's mind was in the proper tone 

To hail her with tho apostrophe — ** O thou!" 

Of amatory egotism tlio Tuism, 

Which iurtlier to explain would he a truism. 



XIV. 

But lover, poet, or astronomer. 

Shepherd, or swain, whoever may behold. 

Feel some abstraction when they fjazc on her: 

Great thouiihts we catch from thence (besides a cold 

Sometimes, unless my fei liners rather err); 
Deep secrets to lier rolhn<r light are told; 

The ocean's tides and mortals' brains she sways, 

And also hearts, if there be truth in lays. 



XV. 

Juan felt somewhat pensive, and disposed 
For contemplation rather than his pillow : 

The Gothic chamber, wliere he was enclosed, 
Let in the ripphng sound of the lake's billow 

With all the mystery by midnight caused : 

Below his window waved (of course) a willow; 

And he stood guzvv\w owV, oiv vW c.^-ac,^^^ 

That flash'd and a^Vet dvivVevC ^ m v\vt ^\^\^« 



DON JUAlf. 49^ 



XYI. 

Upon his table or his toilet, — which 
Of these is not exactly ascertain'd, — 

(I state this, for I am cautious to a pitch 
Of nicety, where a fact is to be gain'd,) 

A lamp burn'd high, while he leant from a niche» 
Where many a Gothic ornament remain'd. 

In chisell'd stone and painted glass, and all 

That time has left our fathers of their hall. 



xvn. 

Then, as the night was clear though cold, he threw 
His chamber door wide open — and went forth 

Into a gallery, of a sombre hue. 

Long, furnish'd with old pictures of great worthy 

Of knights and dames heroic and chaste too. 
As doubtless should be people of high birth. 

But by dim lights the portraits of the dead 

Have something ghastly, desolate, and dread. 



XVIII. 

The forms of the grim knight and pictured saint 
Look living in the moon ; and as you turn 

Backward and forward to the echoes faint 
Of your own footsteps — voices from the urn 

Appear to wake, and shadows wild and quaint 

Start from the frames which fence their aspects stem. 

As if to ask how you can dare to keep 

A vigil there, where all but death should sleep. 



XIX. 

And the pale smile of beauties in the grave. 
The charms of other days, in starlight gleams, 

Glimmer on high ; their buried locks still wave 
Along the canvass ; their eyes glance like dreams 

On ours, or spars within some dusky cave. 
But death is imaged in their shadowy heaxna* 

A picture is the past ; even ere via Ct^m!^ 

Be gilt, who sate hath ceased to be ^^e uojcd!^* 



I 



\a JiiiiTi mu9eil on mutability, 

Ur on his mistress — tertna synonymous — 
No sound 'excwpl the eclio of bia sigh 

Or step ran andiy Ihroiigb that antique bouaa ' 
Wh(a) sodJenlv he heard, or tboiighl so, nigh, 

A supernatural agent — or a mouse. 
Whose lillle nibbling rustle will embamss 
Moat people as it pluys along th« arras. 



It wtiK no mouw, bitt 1o ! a raonk, arny'il 
In eow) and beads, and doshy gar^ appeared. 

Now in (he moonlight, and now lapsod in shades 
^Viif, sipps t\v.,\ tr.t.l us luMvy, yet i]iili(ani ; 

His garments only a slight murmur made; 
-He ntoved as shadowy as the sisters weird. 

But slowly ; and as he passed Juan by. 

Glanced, without pausing, on him a bright eyo. 



Juan was petrified ; he had heard a hint 
Of such a spirit in these halls of old. 

But thought, like most men, there was nothing in *t 
Beyond the rumour which such »pots uafolt^ 

Coin'd from surviving superstition's mint. 
Which passes gljosts in currency like gold. 

But rarely seen, like gold compared with paper. 

And did he see this ? or was it a vapourt 



Once, twice, thrice pass'd, repaasM — the thing ofairt 
Or earth beneath, or heaven, or t* other place ; 

And Juan gazed upon it with a stare. 
Yet could not speak or move ; but, f^ ita baae 

As stands a statue, stood : he Telt hia hair 
Twine \ika a VlthA ot snakes around hia &ce ; 

He tax'd hia V(wig» fat ■wQt4»,-»iVC\^"w*«Li«*.^»a*Bl, 

To ask the TCVereni ^woa ^\»X.>« ■«wte^ 



J 

OMROZTL l>OH JTAH. 

The third tiroo^ afler a still longer pause, 

The shadow pass'd away — but where? the hail 

Was long, and thus far there was no great cause 
To think his vanishing unnatural : 

Doors there were many, through which, by the lawt 
Of physics, bodies whether short or tall. 

Might come or go ; but Juan could not state 

Through which the spectre seem'd to evaporate. 



He stood — how long he knew not, but it seem'd 
An age — expectant, powerless, with his eyes 

Strain'd on the spot where first the figure glearo'dy 
Then by degrees recall'd his energies. 

And would have puss'd the whole ofi' as a dream, 
But could not wake ; he was, he did surmise, 

Waking already, and return'd at length 

Back to his chamber, shorn of half his strength. 



XXVI. 

All there was as he left it : still his taper 
Burnt, and not Uue, as modest tapers use, 

Receiving sprites with sympathetic vapour ; 
He rubb'd his eyes, and they did not refuse 

Their ofiice ; he took up an old newspaper ; 
Tlie paper was right easy to peruse ; 

He read an article the king attacking, 

And a long eulogy of '' patent blacking." 

XXVII. 

This savour 'd of this world ; but his hand shook 
He shut his door, and af^er having read 

A paragraph, I think about Home Tooke, 
Undress'd, and rather slowly went to bed. 

There, couch'd all snugly on iiis pillow's nook. 
With what he 'd seen his phantasy he fed ; 

And though it was no opiate, aVuinVvet ct^^^V 

Upon him by degrees, and so be a\c\il. 



DOir JUAH. mwmitK 



He woke betimes ; and, as may be supposedp 

PonderM upon his visitant or vision. 
And whether it ought not to be disclosed. 

At risk of being quizz'd for superstition* 
The more he thought, the more his mind was posed? 

In the mean time, his valet, whose precision 
Was great, because his master brook'd no less, 
Knock'd to inform him it was time to dress. 



He drcssM ; and like young people he was wont 
To take some trouble with his toilet, but 

This morning rather spent less time upon 't ; 
Aside his very mirror soon was put ; 

His curls tVll nt^jiliorentlv oVr his front. 

His clothes were not ciirhM to their usual cut. 

His very neckcloth's Ciordian knot was tied 

Almost an hair's breadth too much on one side. 



And when he walkM down into the saloon. 
He sate him pensive o'er a dish of tea, 

Which he perhaps had not discover'd soon, 
Had it not happenM scalding hot to Im*, 

Which made him have recours<? unto his spoon; 
So nmch distrait he was, tliat all could see 

That something was the njatter — Adeline 

The first — but what she could not well divine. 



XXXI. 

She look'd, and saw him pale, and turn'd as pale 
Herself; then hastily look'd down, and mutter'd 

Somethin'T* but what 's not slated in my tale. 
Lc)rd Henry said, his miilTin was ill butter'd ; 

The Ducheft^ of Fitz-Fulke playM with her veil. 
And look'd at Juan hard, but nothing utter'd. 

Aurorii Ra\>y >v'\l\\ \\^t \;vt^s? ^wW v-nv-'* 

Survey M him wUVv a VAivd ^^ e^aXuv wv^x^^vafc 



Xn» IKUf JVAtU 



xzzn* 



But seeing him all cold and silent still. 
And every body wondering more or less, 

Fair Adeline inquired, *' If he were ill ? " 

He started, and said, " Yes — no — rather — ycB." 

The family physician had great skill. 

And being present, now began to express 

His readiness to feel his pulse and tell 

The cause, but Juan saicC *' He was quite welL'' 



zxxin* 

** Quite well ; yes, — no." — ^These answers were mysteriouiy 
And yet his looks appeared to sanction both, 

However they might savour of delirious ; 
Something like illness of a sudden growth 

Wcigh'd on his spirit, though by no means serious : 
But for the rest, as he himself seemM loth 

To state the case, it might be ta'en for granted 

It was not the physician that he wanted. 



XXZIV. 

Lord Henry, who had now discuss'd his chocolate, 

Also the muffin whereof he complain'd, 
Said, Juan had not got his usual look elate 

At which he marvelFd, since it had not niin'd ; 
Then ask*d her Grace what news were of the duke of late 7 

Her Grace replied, his Grace was ratlier pain'd 
With some slight, light, hereditary twinge* 
Of gout, which rusts aristocratic hingen. 



Then Henry tum'd to Juan, and addremi'd 
A few words of condolence on his wtate : 

''You look," quoth he, ''as if you M had your ro«t 
Broke in upon by the Black Friar of jat<;«" 

" What friar 7 " said Juan ; and lie did his beft 
To put the question with an air scilate, 

Or careless ; Init the effort wan not vnW^ 

To hiader bun from growing hUW tiiut« \^v^ 



'Oh! hmw you never henH of thp Bbck Friar T 
The Bpiril of these walls?" — "In iniUi noli.' 

"Why Fame — btil Fnme you know 's 9unn.-timeBa.Itxr' 
Tells an odd «ory, of which by ami by : 

'iVhether with lime the sjMN^rre h»s ^rown sfaycTt 
Or that onr sires Iiad a more gined fve 

For such sights, thoti^h the tate is hnlf heliend. 

The frinr of late has not been oft perceived. 



•■Tlie lust linie was " — "I pray," said Addoie— 

(Who watch'd the t^iiem of Don Juan'a brawt 
And from its context thought she ctmld divine 

Connections stronsi^r than he chosp to a»ow 
With this parn- le^'-iHi)— ■• (f v<.m bill rfosi^n 

To jest, yuii 'II cliDose soii^^'oKi.T [liPtrifl just no' 
Because the present tale has of) heen told. 
And is not much improved by growing old." 



3 



» Jest ! " quoth Milor ; » why, Adeline, you know 
That we ourselves — 't was in the honey .mooD- — • 

Sow ■ " — " Well, no matter, 't was so long ago ; 

But, come, I 'II set your story to a tune," 

Gmceful as Dian, when she draws her bow. 

She seized her hnrp, whose strings were kindled eoon 

As louch'd, and plaintively began to play 

The air of " T was a Friar of Orders Gray." 



" But add the words," cried Henry, " which yon n 

For Adeline is half a poetess," 
Turning round to the rest, h^ smiling said. 

Of course the others could not but esprew 
In courtesy their wish to see disptay'd 

By one tftre« talents, for there were no len— 
The voice, the woTAfc,ft«\iw\*rf«*3!K»Xt»wBfc 



An. i>oif JUAN. 4117 



XL. 

Afler some &scinating hesitation, — 

The charming of these charmers, who seem boitncit 
I can't teil why to this dissimulation, — 

Fair Adeline, with eyes fix'd on the ground 
At first, then kindling into animation. 

Added her sweet voice to the lyric sound. 
And sang with much simplicity, — a merit 
Not the less precious, that we seldom hear it« 



1. 



Beware ! he ware ! of the Black Friar, 

Who sittcth by Norman stone, 
For he mutters his prayer in the midnight air 

And his mass of the days that are gone. 
When the Lord of the llill, Amundeville, 

Made Norman Church his prey, 
And expeU'd tlie friars, one friar still 

Would not be driven away. 



2. 

Though he came in his might, with King Henry's rights 

To turn church lands to lay. 
With sword in hand, and torch to light 

Their walls, if they said nay ; 
A monk remain'd, unchased, unchain'd, 

[^nd he did not seem form'd of clay,^ 
For he 's seen in the porcli, and he 's seen in the church. 

Though he is not seen by day. 



8. 

And whether for good, or whether for ill. 

It fs not mine to say ; 
But still with the house of Amundeville 

lie abideth night and day. 
By the marriage-bed of their lords, 't la said, 

He flits on the bridal eve ; 
And 't is held as faith, to theit bod ot d«»S^ 

He cornea — but not to grieve* 
VOL, vr 




I>CI<« tVAll, 



When an heir is boni, he '» nld to 

And when aught is to befall 
"Hiat ancient line, in the jial« I 

He walks from hall to haU. * 

His form yuu may trace, but not bia be 

T is shadow'd by Iiim cowl ; 
But his eyea may be seen ttotn tb« folds 

And tliey seem of a parted sooL 

6. 

But EwTBrel beware ! of the Black Friar, 

He still retaina his ewayt 
For fw ia yet the clmreb's bur 

Whoever may be the lay. 

Aniundeville is lord bj dny. 
But the monk ia lord by night ; 

Nor wine nor wassail could raise a vassal 
To question that friar's right. 

6. 

Say nought to him as he walks the hallt 

And he 'II say nought to you ; 
He sweeps along in bis dusky pall, 

As o'er the grass the dew. 
Then grammercy ! for the Black Friar ; 

Heaven sain him! fair or foul. 
And whatsoe'er may he his prayer. 

Let ours be for liis soul. 



The lady's roico ceased, and the Hirilling wim 
Died from the touch that kindled them to aooad 

And the pause follow'd, which when song expiiM 
Pervades a moment those who listen round ; 

And then of course the circle much admires^ 
Nor less applauds, as in politeneM bound, 

Hie tones, Iha feeXum,, «>& tiu> ^u^soJuxn^ 

To tbe p«fota»r'a4a&4MA«»»Sa««^ 



*l«M xn. Doir JUAN. 4M 

XLn. 

Fair Adeline, tnough in a carelefls way. 

As if she rated such accomplishment 
As the mere pastime of an idle day. 

Pursued an instant for her own content. 
Would now and then as 't were mthmU display. 

Yet with display in fact, at times relent 
To such performances with haughty smile. 
To show she couldy if it were worth her while. 

xLm. 

Now this (hut we will whisper it aside) 
Was — pardon the pedantic illustration — 

Trampling on Plato's pride with greater pride. 
As did the Cynic on some like occasion 

Deeming the sage would be much mortified. 
Or thrown into a philosophic pas.sion, 

For a spoiPd carpet — but the " Attic Bee ** 

Was much consoled by his own repartee.* 

XLIV. 

Thus Adeline would throw into the shade 

(By doing easily, whene'er she chose, 
What dilettanti do with vast parade) 

Their sort ofJudfprofession; for it grows 
To something like this when too oft display'd ; 

And that it is so, every body knows. 
Who 've heard Miss That or This, or Lady T* other. 
Show off — to please their company or mother. 

ZLT. 

Oh ! the long evenings of duets and trios ! 

The admirations and the s[>eculations ; 
The ** Mamma Mia's ! " and the " Amor Mio's ! *• 

The '* Tanti Palpitis " on such occasions : 
The " Lasciami's," and quavering " Addio's ! '* 

Among our own most musical of nations ; 
With ^ Tu mi chamas's " fnmi Portingale, 
To soothe our ear^ lest Italy should fail, f 

^ I think that it wom m carpet on which Dioi^r*ea trod, with — ** Than I tnm» 
|rfe on the pride of Plato ! ' — ** With greater pri<J«'." tut the <ither replied. Bat 
M euneU are mmnl \o be trodden ap</n, mv' memory probably mitfivet me, and 
II nuglit be a robe, or tapestry, or a table-cloth, or aome other expeiave and on 
eyaical piece of t'umitare. 

f Inmember that the mayoreaa of a mo^nnm^ Vsntn^ «mMn^a0L 
nU « ainlv di^pUr fpTin foreign pvta, did Tithn Vd^^ 



In Babylon's brnvuma — as the hame 

HearUballada orGrcen Erin or Gray RlgliUi 

That bring Lorlmbei back to eyes that niu/n 
O'er far Atlantic cunlinunts or islands. 

The calentures uf music which o'ercfime 

All mounlaiiK«ra wtlli dn;ains that Ihcy are nigh l| 

No more lo be beheld but in such visions — 

Wm Adeline well vorscd, a^ compositions. 



8ha also had a IwUtgbt tinge of " Bbu," 

Could write ihymeo, wid cwnipoae more than she imte. 
Made epigrams occasionallv too 

Upon her friends, ns cverv knJj, ou;:ht. 
But still from that sublimer azure hue. 

So much the present dye, she was remote ; 
Was weak enough to deem Pope a great poet. 
And what was worse, v/aa not ashamed to show it. 



Aurora — since we are touching upon taste, 
Which now-n-days is the thiTtnomcfer 

By whose degrees all chnraclers are class'd — 
Was more Shakspcarian, if I do not err. 

The worlds beyond this world's perplexing waste 
Had more of her existence, for in her 

There was a depth of feeling to embrace 

Thoughts, boundless, deep, but silent too as Space. 



pe«ce 
lydisi 





me.n,u(o.n».. 


-fc. 


3s.";:i 










, ii'..t.p 




-Knt 


.imple balbiir 


U.r.ir, 




e™d 



lL^ed by the p^rrurmei 
your Tinliintm ! for my jmri, I lovf s n iiinple 

WB]r tu bring man peopir lo tlie mine opimcin. tmne ahi, » iii> uouui imncine 
thu lia mm to be lUe lUcresHir ofTHoian 1 lIuHcvcf. 1 t-i^iif Ili» with ilitE- 
dance, u ■ Uefe and Idx>] admirer of Italian monc in |;f in'raJ. ami of mnrli of 
Sonjni'i; bul wenui)- esv™'^ conmnucat >M oC niinrin;;. in the fitsTt/ 
W^afdi, •* Ihkl Om (lettm w<MdA \m ^mn>« ^hs.'wA '£ «» y^iun \»& ^aka« 



Xn. l>OK JUAN. 



XLSX. 



Not so her gracious, graceful, graceless Grace, 
The full-grown Hebe of Fitz-Fulke, whose mindf 

If she had any, was upon her face, 
And that was of a fascinating kind. 

A little turn for mischief you might trace 

Also thereon, — but that 's not much ; we find 

Few females without some such gentle leaven. 

For fear we should suppose us quite in heaven. 



I have not heard she was at all poetic, 

Though once she was seen reading the << Bath Guidey'' 
And ** Hayley's Triumphs," which she deem'd pathetic» 

Because she said her temper had been tried 
So much, the bard had really been prophetic 

Of what she had gone through with — since a bride. 
But of all verse, what most insured her praise 
Were sonnets to herself, or ^ bouts rim6s." 



LI. 

•T were difficult to say what was the object 
Of Adeline, in bringing this same lay 

To bear on what ap|)earM to her the subject 
Of Juan's nervous feelings on that day. 

Perhaps she merely had the simple project 
To laugh him out of his supposed dismay ; 

Perhaps she might wish to confirm him in it, 

Though why I cannot say — at least this nuiitite» 



LII. 

But so far the immediate effect 

Was to restore him to his self-propriety, 
A tifing quite necessary to the elect. 

Who wish to take the tone of their society i 
In which you cannot bo too circumspect. 

Whether the mode be persiflage or piety. 
But wear the newest mantle of hy^ocxxs^, 
Oa pain of much displeasing the gyiioct^«^% 



502 Doir JUAN. 



un. 



And therefore Juan now began to ndly 
His spirits, and without more explanation 

To jest upon such themes in many a sally. 
Her Grace too, also seized the same occanoOp 

With various similar remarks to tally, 

But wish'd for a still more detail'd narration 

Of this same mystic friar's curious doings, 

About the present family's deaths and wooings. 



LIV. 

Of these few could say more than has been said ; 

They pass'd, as such things do, for superstition 
With some, while others, who had more in dread 

The theme, half credited the strange tradition, 
And much was talk'd on all sides on that head : 

But Juan, wiion cross-qurslionM on the vision. 
Which some supposed (though he had not avow'd it) 
Had stirr'd him, answered in a way to cloud it. 



LV. 



And then, the mid -day having worn to one, 
Tiie company prepared to separate ; 

Some to their several pastimes, or to none. 

Some wondering 't was so early, some so late. 

There was a goodly match too, to be run 

Between some grayhounds on my lord's estate. 

And a young race-horse of old pedigree, 

Match'd for the spring, whom several went to 



LVI. 

• 

There was a picture-dealer who had brought 
A special Titian, warranted original. 

So precious that it was not to he bought, • 

Though princes the possessor were besieging alL 

The king himself had cheapen'd it, but thought 
The civil list Uc dei^us to acce^>t, (oblitring all 

His subjects Viy \ua ^racvow^ vvQ.c.vi\kVa\AsycC^ — 

Too scanty, in t\i<is»i Vvu\<ia ol\vi>« \.vi.YjaMvviii., 



OAlltOXTt. 



DON JVAK. 509 



Lvn. 



But as Lord Henry w&s a connoisseur, — 
The friend of artists, if not arts, — the ownert 

With motives the most classical and pure. 
So that he would have been the very donor. 

Rather than seller, had his wants been fewer, 
So much he deem'd his patronage an honouTf 

Had brought the capo d'opera, not for sale. 

But for his judgment, — never known to fail. 

Lvni. 

There was a modem Goth, I mean a Gothic 

Bricklayer of Babel, call'd an architect. 
Brought to survey these gray walls, which though so thicliy 

Might have from time acquired some slight defect ; 
Who af^er rummaging the Abbey through thick 

And thin, produced a plan whereby to erect 
New buildings of correctest conformation, 
And throw down old, which he call'd restoration, 

LIX. 

The cost would bo a trifle — an " old song," 
Set to some thousands ('t is the usual burden 

Of that same tune, when people hum it long) — 
The price would speedily repay its worth in 

An edifice no less sublime than strong, 

By which Lord Henry's good taste would go forth in 

Its glory, through all ages shining sunny, 

For Gothic daring shown in English money.*^ 

LX. 

■ • 

There were two lawyers busy on a mortgage 
Lord Henry wish'd to raise for a new purchase ; 

Also a lawsuit upon tenures burgage, 
« And one on tithes, which sure are Discord's torcheSf 

Kindling Religion till she throws down her gage, 

" Untying 'squires " to fight against the churches ; " f 

There was a prize ox, a prize pig, and ploughman. 

For Henry was a sort of Sabine showman. 

• •* Aura Romano, wre Veneto" w the inscription (and well nwcrib^d in thw 
inttancA) on the sea walls between the Adriatic and Venire. The walls were a 
rapublican work of the Venetians ; the inscription, I believe, Imperial ; and in- 
Mnbed by Napoleon. 

t ^ Though ye untie the winds, and let them ^sH 
AgaittBt the cAurckM." — Madbttk, 



IB aiSeel tr^p^ 






i 



lb 



i ...; 



v«tii n^ouTy 



zroGiKSL cc a 



A r>ftt "^Iti 



t ie& ftftv Re 



AT : :.- - 






£OC IB or oof; 
o( Kaninl hidcorv 

m 

Pc-od of' Miring doubC ; 
:-:■' :":r is-e c^'^Qsisionr- 






-5 r-Mr>:r _ 






A-: 






>r * 1 



A-: 

f : : 



^5^ TJkCv.'-.r^ :.:.-■* aqi leases, 
::::: :-.*: rreciuiiuus benches. 



T>o 7>:^-r: rv/rr!: irris eiTT*="r-:!y pale* 
Pi^v 15 ::"ra.:::t^: s..-*; i.rr chevk r^ing red 

By r..-:.:."\", r^s m :.::: ;^r ^:^::>:> I-ss hale 

T :< H.-.;:t, Tit !vi5: w ~cn ihey yi<i rl^ from bed. 

Perhaps sj.o was asLirii-i^: of 5«=^cnun;: frail. 

P'-VT 5c :il • for 5r.^^ was C'* 'in try born and bred. 

And knew no bfuei \t\\\vx \'A^v^*-^r^\\vs 



DON JVAN. 60& 



LXY. 



Her black, bright, downcast, yet espidgle eye, 
Had gathered a large tear into its corner. 

Which the poor thing at times essay'd to dry, 
For she was not a sentimental mourner. 

Parading all her sensibility, 

Nor insolent enough to scorn the scomer. 

But stood in trembling, patient tribulation. 

To be calVd up for her examination. 



LXVI. 

Of course these groups were scatter'd here and tfaerop 
Not nigh the gay saloon of ladies gent. 

The lawyers in the study ; and in air 

The prize pig, ploughman, poachers ; the men sent 

From town, viz. architect and dealer, were 
Both busy (as a general in his tent 

Writing despatches) in their several stations, 

Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations. 



Lxvn. 

But this poor girl was left in the great hall, 
While Scout, the parish guardian of the frail, 

Discuss'd (he hated beer yclept the *' small ") 
A mighty mug of morcd double ale : 

She waited until Justice could recall 
Its kind attentions to their proper pale, 

To name a thing in nomenclature rather 

Perplexing for most virgins — a child's father. 



Lxvm. 

Tou see here was enough of occupation 

For the Lord Henry, link'd with dogs and hoi 
There was much bustle too, and preparation 

Below stairs on the score of second courses ; 
Because, as suits their rank and situation^ 

Those who in counties have greal VaxA t^iQ(csQXQ«ik 
Have '* public days," when a\\ niftii umlY <»-^^^^^»fc^ 
Though not exacdy what 'a caVd ^^ o^ti Vnsvaa^^ 



r 



&OK jv\n. 



Bnl once ■ w«ek or fortnight, uninviled 
(Thus w« tnnsltite a general incifafum. 

All countn,- g^otlcmen, esquired or knighted. 

May drop in without cards, and take their stalioi 

At tbr full board, and sit alike delighted 
With &shionable irines and conversation ; 

And, ma tbe isthmus of the grand conneclion, 

T^lk o'er tbeinJdTes the past and next electioiL 



Lord Henry wss n great elecliooeerer, 

Burri 1, : ■ - r. i-l^s like a mt or rahNt. 

Bui .-. - - ~i liini rather dearer, 

B.: ^, :-rig Scotch Earl ofGiflgahbit 

Bftd En^ish influeoce, in tbe self-flstne sphere ben ; 
His son, the Honourable Dick Dicedrabbit, 

Was member for tbe " other interest " (meaning 

Tbe same 8etf4Dlerest, with a different leaning). 



Courteous and cautious therefore in bia county, 
He was all things to all men, and dispensed 

To some civility, to others bounty, 

And promises to all — which last conuneneed 

To gather to a somewhat large amount, be 
Not calculating how much they condensed ; 

But what with keeping some, and breaking otbei^ 

His word bad the same ralue as anotber'a. 



A friend to freedom and freeholders— ret 
No less a friend to government — he held, 

Tlat be exactly the just medium hit 

"Twixt place and patriotism — albeit compeU'i^ 

Such was bis soverev^n's pleasure, (though nnfit, 
H c added modes1\y , w^veii TtsVxiXa T»iS i^y 

To hold some aiww^rea^^-wwWi »taduA.*t. 

But thai wiVh ti«uv aaU* ■«o^^»l <to«toA^4. 



DON JUAN. fiCnf 



He was ** free to confess " — (whence comes this phrase T 
Is 't English ? No — 't is only parliamentary) 

That innovation's spirit now-a.days 

Had made more progress than for the last century. 

He would not tread a factious path to praise, 

Though for the public weal disposed to venture high ; 

As for his place, he could but say this of it. 

That the fatigue was greater than the profit. 



LXXIV. 

Heaven, and his friends, knew that a private life 
Had ever been his sole and whole ambition; 

But could he quit his king in times of strife, 

Which threaten'd the whole country with perdition ? 

When demagogues would with a butcher's knife 
Cut through and through (oh ! damnable incision !) 

The Gordian or the Geordi-an knot, whose strings 

Have tied together commons, lords, and kings. 



LXXV. 

Sooner ** come place into the civil list 

And c. ampion him to the utmost " — he would keep itf 
Till duly c 'sappointed or dismiss'd : 

Profit he cared not for, let others reap it ; 
But should tne day come when place ceased to exist, 

The country would have far more cause to weep it : 
For how could it go on ? Explain who can ! 
He gloried in the name of Englishman. 



LXXYI. 

He was as independent — ay, much more — 

Than those who were not paid for independence^ 

As common soldiers, or a common shore. 

Have in their several arts or parts ascendance 

O'er the irregulars in lust or gore. 

Who do not give professional attendanoi^ 

TbuB on the mob all statesmen aTe as ea^gst 
To prove th^i^ nride, as footxnen to a Vmubm* 



DOX JTAII. 



AD this (save the last stanza) Henry wid, 

And thought. I say no more — I *ve said too madi; 

For all ofua have eittwr heard or read — 

Off — Of upon Ibe hustinao — some slight such 

Hints from the inde|>en(Ie -t or liead 

Of the ofTicial candidate. il touch 

No more on this — the dinni ^ll hnlii rung. 

And grace is said ; tbe'gract ikauld bave tmig'— 



But I ^ too late, and titer miist make play. 

T waa a great banquet, si na Albion old 
Was wont to boast — as if a gmlton's tray 

Were sometliinj^ very glorious In behold. 
But 't was a public feast and public day, — 

Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and dishes cok 
Great plenty, much furmality, small cheer, 
And every body out of their own sphere. 



The squires familiarly formal, and 

My lords and ladies proudly condescending ; 

The very servants puzzling how to hand 

Their plates — without it might be too much bending 

From their high places by the sidolioard's stand — 
Yet, like their masters, fearful of odunding. 

For any deviation from the graces 

Might cost both man and masters too — their plaeei. 



There were some hunters bold, and coursers keen. 

Whose hounds ne'er crr'd, nor greyhounds deign'd to 

Some deadly shots too, ScplembHzers, seen [lurch; 

Earliest to rise, and last to quit the search 

Of the poor ipartudgs tUtough his stubble screen. 
There were aomp- nvias^ mcvtJoeTa «1 fet >i»iK^ 

Takers of tittiea, »n4 maV*« o^ %<ia& vw>.\rias». 

And several who w>Dg fe^^ V«»="»a *»^ «.\d«». 



LZXXI. 

There were some country wags too — and, mbs! 

Some exiles from the town, iHio had beea diifVB 
To gaze, instead of paTement, upon grasi» 

And rise at nine in lien of long eleTea. 
And lo ! upon that day it came to pass, 

I sale next that overwhelming son of heaYea, 
The very powerful parson, Peter Pith, 
The loudest wit I e'er was deafen'd with. 



Lxxxn. 

I knew him in his livelier London days, 
A brilliant diner out, though but a curate ; 

And not a joke he cut but eam'd its praiiie. 
Until preferment, coming at a sure nUe, 

(O Providence ! how wondrous are thy ways ! 

Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate 1) 

Gave him, to lay the devil who looks o'er Lincoln^ 

A fat fen vicarage, and nought to think on 



His jokes were sermons, and his sermon^i jokes ; 

But both were thrown away amon^t the fens 
For wit hath no great friend in aguish folks. 

No longer ready ears and short^haml pens 
Imbibed the gay boo mot, or happy hoax : 

The poor priest was reduc^ tr> cofnrrK>n sense^ 
Or to coarse efforts very loud and Uo^r, 
To hammer a hoarse laugh from the thick throng* 



There if a difference, says the song, ** lietwaeo 
A beggar and a queen,'^ or mw (of late 

The latter worse used of the two we Ve mnn •* 
But we 11 say nothing of afikirs of statu) 

A difference ** 'twixt a bishop and a doan^^' 
A di^rence between crockery watta v^vA \^Vk 

Am Mweeo Eo^ish beef and tt^ttioi \if %>\>^ — 
Aai jrH tfiwt heroes have been \»ie& \t% VmX>^ 



■oar JCAX. 



UpM the wfcofa y pieafec flbta As rf 

hfeU hMwna ik oMAy wd the Iw 

Of vkck t^ tekr Hente noT p 

Uri Mtf Oi^ ar set, or fed, with refbreooa 
«MM*aaI lAta af iMoaM or mmbtttan — 



Bui " m snnt ' " TS? light laxts iutgaiah o'a 
Lor:; ' - - ~- r --' n&BT guests, ahbougfa 

A sli_- ■ - - ■ ?Ie lor« mach more, 

Bacchus and Ceres betng, as we know, 

Eveo frtxD our grainmar apwarda, frieitds of yore 
With TiTifying VeuBs, who doth owe 

To tbne the inventian of cbuupagne uid tmffles : 

TempeimDce ddigfats ber, hot long f»«''"g loffleo. 



Dolly psn'd o'er the dinner of the day ; 

And Juan look hia place, be knew not when^ 
Contused, in the confusioD, and distrait. 

And sitting as if naii'd upon his chair : 
Though knirea and forks clan|r'd round as in ■ &Kf, 

He seem'd unconscious of all passing there. 
Till some one, with a groan, express'd a wiafa 
(Unheeded twice) to hare a fio of fisfa. 



On which, at the third asking of the ban^ 
He started ; and perceiving smiles around 

Broadening to grins, he colour'd more than aneOf 
And hastily — as nothing can confound 

A Wise mail more t\vB.Ti \aM,^Wtt ^toto ^ 4.>3iisa — 
Inflicted on l\ie dish a. feaiVj -"o-wA, 



0ASTO ZTL 



DON jrvAir. Ul 



This was no bad mistake, as it occurrM, 
The suppUcator being an amateur ; 

But others, who were lefl with scarce a third. 
Were angry — as they well might, to be sure* 

They wonder'd how a young man so absurd 
Lord Henry at his table should endure ; 

And this, and his not knowing how much oats 

Had fallen last market, cost his host three votes* 



zo. 



They little knew, or might have sympathized, 
That he the night before had seen a ghost, 

A prologue which but slightly harmonized 
With the substantial company engross'd 

By matter, and so much matpfialized, 

That one scarce knew at wiat to marvel most 

Of two things — how (the ouestion rather odd is) 

Such bodies could have souls, or souls such bodies* 



zci* 

But what confused him more than smile or stars 
From all the 'squires and 'squiresses around, 

Who wonder'd at the abstraction of his air. 
Especially as he had been renown'd 

For some vivacity among the fair. 

Even in the country circle's narrow bound -^ 

(For little things upon my lord's estate 

Were good smdl talk for others still less groat>«« 



zcn. 

Was, that he caught Aurora's eye on his. 
And something like a smile upon her cheekt 

Now this he really rather took amiss : 

In those who rarely smile, their smile bespeaks 

A strong external motive ; and in this 

SmiJe of Aurora's there was nou^V\l lo \\!Q^Mt% 

Or hope, or love^ with any of iVie w'\\e» 

Wbk^ mmm pretend to trmce in \k&ui w&m^ 



DOK JUAN. 



1 was a mere quiet smile of contemplalioik 
Indicative of soaie surprise ant) pity ; 

Abd Juan grew carnation wilh vexation. 

Which was not very wise, and still lees witty, 

Since he had gain'd at Ici observation, 

A most importanl oulwv the city — 

As Juiin should have knoi not his senses 

By lost night's gho^t been irom theii 



But what was bad, she did not iuah in turn. 
Nor seem embarrasa'd — qu. the contrary ; 

Her nsppct waa as usual, still — not slern — 
AdJ she withdrew, but ciist not down, her eye, 

Yet grew a little pnle — w-iili wliat ? concern f 
I know not ; but her colour ne'er was high — 

Though sonietimea faintly llush'd — and always clear, 

As deijp seaa in a sunny atmosphere- 

xcv. 

But Adeline was occupied bv fame 

This dav ; and watching, wiichinrr. condcscendmg 
To the consumers of tish, fowl, nnd p^iuic. 

And diguiiy uilli courtt.-^v so bli.'iuling, 

(l^s|i<.'ciitliy u» llic o!\lii year is cu.iing) 
Safe conduct through the rocks of ru-elcctiooa. 



Though this was most expedient on the wholtt, 
And usual — Juan, when he cast a glance 

On Adeline while playing her grand rble. 

Which she went through as though it were a dance- 

Bctrayin{; only now and then her soul 
By ? WiW scaicii \iftV'ic^*i\'oVj iii^'a.tviyi 

(Of weftrmeaa or 8t«jvn,~l \ics*^ ^o ^ea\ 

3ome do\»bl how m*icV -^^ K4ft\«^ "^^ -"^ . 



DON jVAir, 618 



xcvn. 



So well she acted all and every part 

By tuma — with that vivacious versatility. 

Which many people take for want of heart. 

They err — *t is merely what is call'd mobility,* 

A thing of temperament and not of art, 

Though seeming so, from its supposed facility ; 

And false — though true ; for surely they 're sincerest. 

Who are strongly acted on by what is nearest. 

xcviu. 

This makes your actors, artists, and romancers, 
Heroes sometimes, though seldom — sages never ; 

But speakers, bards, diplomatists, and dancers. 
Little that 's great, but much of what is clever 

Most orators, but very few financiers. 

Though all Exchequer chancellors endeavour. 

Of late years, to dispense with Cocker's rigours, 

And grow quite figurative with their figures. 

xcix. 

The poefs of arithmetic are they 

Who, though they prove not two and two to be 
Five, as they might do in a modest way. 

Have plainly made it out that four are three* 
Judging by what they take, and what they pay. 

The Sinking Fund's unfathomable sea, 
lliat most unliquidating liquid, leaves 
The debt unsunk, yet sinks all it receives. 

c. 

While Adeline dispensed her airs and graces. 
The fair Fitz-Fulke seera'd very much at ease ; 

Though too well bred to quiz men to their faces, 
Her laughing blue eyes with a glance could sniff 

The ridicules of people in all places — 
That honey of your fashionable bees — 

And store it up for mischievous enjoyment ; 

And this at present was her kind employment. 

In French ** mobility.** I am not rare that mobility i^ Englinh . bat it it 
•i pr e wi ve of m quality which rather belonn to other climates, though it m tome* 
timea teen to a great extent in our own. It mav Vm d«&N^ «» vc^ «v^«uGe«^ ^Boar 
espdbiUty of immediate impresaona — at iVve «am« ^tga 'w^sOctfji^VMKi^^^^u^'^ 
moak, though aometimea apparently uaaMto t]ha y>iaww«^ %T&ank'^M(^ 



However, (he day closed, as days must close ■ 
The evening also waned — and cofiee camo. 

Each carriage was announced, and ladies roae 
And curtsying olT, ax curtsies country damo, 

Retired: with most unfashif'"-'"'e bowa 
Their docile esquires alao tlie some, 

Delighted with their dinner their bowt. 

But with the Lady Addiae noat. 



Sonie praised her beauty : others her ([reat grace j 
Tl» warmth of bcr politeness, whose sincerity 

Was obvious in each feature of her face, 

Wlioec tmits were mdiant with the rays of verity. 

Yes; she was truly wurlhy hrr liijh place ! 
No one could envy her dcaorvcd prosperity. 

And then her dress — uliat boaiilil'ul simplicity 

Drapcried her form with curious felicity ! * 



Meanwhile sweet Adeline deserved their praises^ 

By all in)partial indemnificiition 
For all her past exertion and soft phrasesi 

In a most edifying conversation. 
Which turn'd upon their lale guests' miens and faCM^ 

And families, even to the Inst relation ; 
Their hideous wives, (heir horrid selves and dresses, 
Aud truculent distortion of tiieir tresses. 

ctf 

liue, «Ae said little — 't was the rest that broke 

Forth into universal epigram; 
But then 't was to the purpose what she spoke : 

Like Addison's " faint praise/' so wont to damilf 
Her own but served to set off every joke. 

As music chimes in willi a melodrame. 
Ilow sweet the task to siiield an absent friend ! 
I Qsk but thia of mVtic, lo not Mft^i. 

• " Cunot& toAitvin*" — Yniowvoa ki-wm. 



a 



CAMTOXVL DON JUAlf. 516 



CV. 




There were but two exceptions to this keen 
Skirmish of wits o'er the departed ; one 
Aurora, with her pure and placid mien ; 
And Juan, too, in general behind none 
In gay remark on what he 'd heard or seen, 
.' Sate silent now, his usual spirits gone : 
In vain he heard the others rail or rally, 
Ue would not join thorn in a single sally. 



cvi. 

T is true he saw Aurora look as though 

She approved his silence ; she perhaps mistook 

Its motive for that charity we owe 

But seldom pay the absent, nor would look 

Farther ; it might or it might not be so. 
But Juan, sitting silent in his nook, 

Observing little in his reverie. 

Yet saw this much, which he was glad to see. 



crvTi, 

The ghost at least had done him this much good. 
In making him as silent as a ghost, 

If in the circumstances which ensued 

He gain'd esteem where it was worth the most* 

And certainly Aurora had renew'd 
In him some feelings he had lately lost 

Or harden'd ; feelings which, perhaps ideal, 

Are so divine, that I must deem them real : -* 



cviii. 

The love of higher things and better days ; 

The unbounded hope, and heavenly ignorance 
Of what is call'd the world, and the world's way« ; 

The moments when we gatlier from a glance 
More joy than from all future pride or ^nLiae^ 

Which kindle manhood, but can iv^^t ^XkXxmXkKA 
The heart in an existence of its o>nti. 
Of which another's boaom is tUe 201M^. 




vos nut 



Who would not sigh A< u n 

That halh a memory, or that Aodtt heart f 
Alas < her star must fade hke that of Diaa : 

Ray fades on ray. as years "» years depart. 
Anacreon only had the fioul ' :e on 

Unwithering inyrlle rount ' unblunted d&rt 
Of Eros : but though thou h >layM us many trido^ 
Still we respect tbee, " Almii niu Gcoetiix I ** 



Aod full of sentiinents, ■ufalins i s bUlows 

HeaTing between this world l nd worlds b^wtl 

Don Juiin, when ihe luidnisht hour of pillows 
Arrived, retired to his ; liul to dc?pi>nd 

Ratlier than rest. Instead of poppies, willowa 
Waved o'er his couch ; he meditated, fond 

Of those SH'eet hitter Ihoughia which banish steep. 

And make the worldling sneer, the youuj^ling weep. 



The night was as before ; he wns undrcst. 

Saving his night-gown, which is an undress ; 
Completely " sans cutotle," and without vest ; 

In short, he hardly could he clothed with less : 
But apprehensive of his spectral g'lest, 

He sate with feeling awkwnrd to express 
(By those who have not had such visitations), 
£xpectant of the ghost's fresh operations. 



And not in vain he listcn'd ; — Hush ! what 's thatt 
I see — I sec — Ah, no ! — 't is not — yes 't is — 

Te powers! it is llm — the — the — Pooh! the cat ! 
The devil may take that stealthy pace of his I 

So like a sp\tVlua.\ ^\\.-a-^iit. 
Or tiptoe ot an amaVoiv W\s», 

Gliding the first Ume to ». T«^i«tNw», 

Aod drea^ ttw AmUb «ci««a ^t^»ii *««- 



DON JUAIf. 617 



cxm. 



Again — what is 't? The windt No, no, — tliis tinie 

It is the sable friar as before, 
With awful footsteps, regular as rhyme, 

Or (as rhymes may be in these days) much more. 
Again through shadows of the night sublime. 

When deep sleep fell on men, and the world wore 
The starry darkness round her like a girdle 
Spangled with gems — the monk made his blood curdle. 

cxiv. 

A noise like to wet fingers drawn on glass,^ 

Which sets the teeth on edge ; and a slight clatter 

Like showers which on the midnight gusts will pass 
Sounding like very supernatural water, — 

Came over Juan's ear, which throbb'd, alas ! 
For immaterialism 's a serious matter ; 

So that even those whose faith is the most great 

In souls immortal, shun them tdte-^-t^te. 



^^ cxv. 

Were his eyes open 7 — Tes ! and his mouth too. 

Surprise has this effect — to make one dumb, 
Tet leave the gate which eloquence slips through 

As wide as if a long speech were to come. 
Nigh and more nigh the awful echoes drew, 

Tremendous to a mortal tympanum : 
Ilis eyes were open, and (as was before 
Stated) his mouth. What open'd next t — the door. 

CXVl. 

It open'd with a most infernal creak, 

Like that of hell. ** Lasciate ogni speranza 

'\^che entrate ! " The hinge seem'd to speak* 
Dreadful as Dante's rima, or this stanza ; 

Or — but all words upon such themes are weak s 
A single shade 's sufficient to entrance a 

Hero — for what is substance to a spirit 7 

Or how is 't matter trembles to come neat M 

^ See the mcconnt of the ghost of the imde oC Vtovca C\iv^«ik ^^Maswi 
r ^ firdkfoepiSjr ^ •« iUri — lOoi » WM wo\^ dML iB^ mM^^"^ 




r mie, not nriAly — bal, as fly 
" I, with ■ steady, sober flight — 
g bftdt ; am doM — but stood atnj 
Half kttiag ■■ long riwilaws oa the light, 
bwh a6M IB Jou^ caadlHticka burn'd high, 
^ he had two, both loknbly bright, — 
1 ■■ (h* ilnoc.iniT. daikeniB^ darknea^ alood 
■od. 



m JoBD shook, as erat be bad been shaken 

The night before ; but heiog sick of shaking, 
Ib first inclioed to thiafc be had been mistaken ; 

And then to be ashtuned of such mistaking; 
His own inlernnl ghost began lo awaken 

Wiihin him, and to quell his corpora] quaking — 
Hinting ihal soul and body on t)ie whole 
Were odds against a disenibodied KmL 



And then his dread grew wralb, and his wrath fierce 
And he arose, advanced — the shade retreated j 

But JuiiD, eager now the tniih to pierce, 

Follow'd, his veins no longer cold, but heated. 

Resolved to ihruet the myaiery carle and tierce, 
At whatsoever riiik of being defeated : 

The ghost stopp'd, menaced, then retired, until 

He nnch'd the ancient wall, then stood stone still. 



Juan put forth one arm — Eternal powers ! 

It touch'd no soul, nor body, but the wall. 
On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showers, 

Chofjuer'd with all the tracery of the bnll ; 
He ahudder'd, as no doubt the bravest cowers 

When he can't tell what '( is that doth appal. 
How odd. a single hobgoblin's noncotity 
Should cause more fear than a wliolo host's identity." 



Have *iwk too™ w™" to 4« w-i "^^^^J^., fc, ,„. 



liirrom. 



DON JUAN. 619 



ozxi. 

But stiL the shade remain'd : the blue eyes glared* 
And rather variably for stony death : 

Tet one thing rather good the grave had spared. 
The ghost had a remarkably sweet breath. 

A straggling curl show'd he had been fair-hairM ; 
A red lip, with two rows of pearls beneath, 

Gleam'd forth, as through the casement's ivy shroud 

The moon peep'd, just escaped from a gray cloud* 



cxxn. 

And Juan, puzzled, but still curious, thrust 
His other arm forth — Wonder upon wonder ! 

It press'd upon a hard but glowing bust. 

Which beat as if there was a warm heart under* 

He found, as people on most trials must. 
That he had made at first a silly blunder 

And that in his confusion he had caught 

Only the wall, instead of what he sought* 



cxxiu* 

The ghost, if ghost it were, seem'd a sweet sou* 
As ever lurk'd beneath a holy hood : 

A dimpled chin, a neck of ivory, stole 

Forth into something much like flesh and blood 

Back fell the sable frock and dreary cowl, 

And they reveal'd — alas ! that e'er they should 

In full, voluptuous, but not o'ergrown bulk. 

The phantom of her frolic Grace — Fitz-Fulke* 



DEDICATION. 



ma FOLLOWING, WHICH IN THE OBIOINAL MANUSCRIPT PBB* 
CEDED THE FIRST CANTO OF DON JUAN, AND IS ALLUDED TO 
IN THE LIFE, PAGE XXIV., WAS PUBLISHED IN A LONDON EDI- 
npN, IN 1833. 



I. 

Bob Southe y ! You 're a poet — Poet-laureate* 

And representative of all the race. 
Although 't is true that you turn'd out a Tory at 

Last, — yours has lately been a common case, »- 
And now, my Epic Renegade ! what are ye at t 

With all the Lakers, in and out of place ? 
A nest of tuneful persons, to my eye 
Like " four and twenty Blackbirds in a pye ! 

u. 

** Which pye being open'd they began to sing ** 

(This old song and new simile holds good\ 
** A dainty dish to set before the King," 

Or Regent, who admires such kind of food ; -* 
And Coleridge, too, has lately taken wing, 

But like a hawk encumber'd with his hood,-* 
Explaining metaphysics to the nation — 
I wish he would explain his Explanation.^ 

in. 

Tou, Bob ! are rather insolent, you knoWf 

At being disappointed in your wish 
To supersede all warblers here below, 

And be the only Blackbird in the dish ; 
And then you overstrain yourself, or so, 

And tumble downward like the flying fish 
Gasping on deck, because you soar too high, Bols 
And fa^ for lack of moisluie qjGilQ Qy-^t^^ \^^\ 

* Mr. CoMiga't •* Bupaptuk Uimxim** «ti9Mx«^>a.'\Sin< 

i 




DEDtCATIDX. 



And Wordaworth, In a ralber long " Excursion " 
(I think the quarto holds fire bundiud pages), 

Haa given a sample from the vaaly version 
Of his new system to perplex the sages ; 

'T ia poetry — at least by bis assertion, 

And may appear so log-star rages — 

And he who understa I be able 

To add a story to the label. 



You — Gentlemen! by dim ng sccliisioa 

From better company, fc pt your own 

At Keswick, and, through intioued fusion 

or one another's minds, ai lia*e grown 

To deem as a most logical eoiiuiJsioo, 
That Poesy has wreaths for you alone : 

There is a narrowness in such a notion, 

Which makes mc wish you 'd change your lakes for ocean. 



I would not imitate the petty thought, 
Nor cuin my sclf-iove to so base a vice, 

For nil the glory your conversion brought, 

Since gold alone should not havR boon its price. 

You hiivc vour sahirv ; wiis 't for lh;u von wrought 
And W(.rils«-orth iiud bis |.lai:e in the Excise." 

You 're shab'iv r.-llo\\a — Iriie — Sul puds slUI, 

And duly scaled on the.iiuiuonul hdl 



Your bays may liidu the lu'ldness of your brows — 
Perhaps some virtuous blushes; — let them go — 

To you 1 envy neither friiil nor boughs — 
And for the fame you would engross below, 

The field is universal, and ittloivs 

Scope lo iill such as feel tlic inherent glow : 

Scott, Rosers, Campbell, Moore, and Crabbc will try 

'Gainst you iliu question with posterity. 

• Wonl!wonh"i place may He in tlie Piisloma — ii in, I (hink, in Ihst of Ai 
Elcbe — bpsiiies aiwAct m\(ir4\»m»Asi«'» v»N«,wSere ilils pueiiral chub- 
tan and nolilica! psrmiw V\cV.b up\\« iMWio\n'«'B'tii'*'«*?>«iiii.-M.-i.,>jMMjft. 

verted Jatoliin havinK \oiig sii\jii4o4 \qMi litm <Jii-maAi vtcu^^aia.'A '<i» -*)»». 

prejudice) of the araWoMi^. 



DBDICATIOir. 593 



vni. 
For moy who, wandering with pedestrian Muses, 

Contend not with you on the winged steed, 
I wish your fate may yield ye, when she chooses^ 

The fame you envy, and the skill you need ; 
And recollect a poet nothing loses 

In giving to his brethren their full meed 
Of merit, and complaint of present days 
Is not tho certain path to future praise. 

IX. 

He that reserves his laurels for posterity 

(Who does not often claim the bright reversion) 

Has generally no great crop to spare it, he 
Being only injured by his own assertion ; 

And although here and there some glorious rarity 
Arise like Titan from the sea's immersion 

The major part of such appellants go 

To — God knows where — for no one ebe can know. 

X. 

If, fallen in evil days on evil tongues, 

Milton appealed to the Avenger, Time, 
If Time, the Avenger, execrates his wrongs, 

And makes the word <* Mil tonic " mean << sMime/* 
He deignM not to belie his soul in songs, 

Nor turn his very talent to a crime ; 
He did not loathe the Sire to laud the Son, 
But closed the tyrant-hater he begun. 

XI. 

Think'st thou, could he — the blind Old Man-— arise 
Like Sumucl from the grave, to {mczc once more 

The blood of monarchs with his prophecies. 
Or be alive again — again all hoar 

With time and trials, and those helpless eyes, 

And heartless daughters — worn — and pale *— and poor 

Would Jie adore a sultan ? he obey 

The intellectual eunuch Castlercagh ? f 

* ** Pale, but not cadaverous : '* — >f ilton*8 two elder daughters are said to hav« 
fobbed him of his books, besides cheating and plaguing him in the economy of hit 
bouse, &c. &c. Ilis feelings on such an outrage, both as a parent and t sirholar, 
initst have been Mngularly pHinful. Hayley compares him to liPar See part 
third. Life of Milton, by W. Hayley (or Haiiy, aa spelt iu vhft «^>Mn^ ^aSsa^ ^t&s^ 

f Or — 

** Would ke subside into m hacVuieY \ianx««X« — 
A wcahbUng, self^ki, aouI-bk«d« wom'^ AaoifnAX'^ 





Cold-blooded, amooth-facod. placid nuBcreaut ! 

Dabbling its sleek young hands id Erin's g 
And thus for wider carnage taught lo pant, 

TrADBlerT'd to gorge upon a sister shore, 
The vulgarest tool timt Tyranny could want. 

With ju9t enough of talent, and no more, 
To lenglben fetters by a " " t'd. 
And oSer poison long alki I'd. 



An orator of such set trasi -aso 

Ineffably — legitimated 

That even its grossest fls are not praise, 

Nor foes — all nations ^scend to smite^ 

Not even a sprightly blunc ark can blaze 

From that Ixion grindstc useless toil. 

That turns and turns to givt world a notion 
Of endless torments and perpetual motion 

A bunclor even in its disgusting trade, 

And botching, patching, leaving slill behind 

Something of which its masters are afraid. 

States to be ciirb'd, and thoughts to be confined, 

Conspiracy or Congress to be made — 
Cobbling at manacles fur all mankind — 

A tinkering slave-maker, who mends old chain*. 

With God and man's abhorrence for its gains. 



If we mav ju<lgc of matter by the mind. 

Emasculated to the marrow /( 
Hath but ttvo objects, bow to servo, and bind, 

Deeming the chain it wears even men may fit, 
Eutropius of its many masters,* — blind 

To worth as freedom, wisdom as to wit, 
Fearless — because no feeling dwells in ice, 
Its very courage stagnates to a vice. 

doubl if" Liiurpaic" and " Iscnriol" bf good rhymes, but mnat n' 
^omon did lo SylveaiBr, who challenged him to rhyme niili — 
" I. John Sj-lvetlet 
Uy «-iLh your fisler-" 



• For IhB character <A Bwrovio*. '4« -mnwiti mA uataww «, ■«» ««.<«. 
ArcaJiuB, kc Gibbon. 



DBDICATION. WA 



ZVI. 



Where shall I turn me not to view its bonds, 
For I will never fed them ; — Italy ! 

Thy late reviving Roman soul desponds 

Beneath the lie this State-thing breathM o'er thee 

Thy clanking chain, and Erin's yet green wounds 
Have voices — tongues to cry aloud for me. 

Europe has slaves — allies — kings — armies still. 

And Southey lives to sing them very ill. 



XVII. 

Meantime — Sir Laureate — I proceed to dedicate, 

Inlionest simple verse, this song to you. 
And, if in flattering strains I do not predicate, 

'T is that I still retain my " buff and blue ; " 
My politics as yet are all to educate : 

Apostasy 's so fashionable, too. 
To keep one creed 's a task grown quite Herculean ; 
Is it not so, my Tory, ultra-Julian ? * 

Venice, Septemoer 16. 1818 

* I ftliude DOt to our friend Landor's hero, the traitor Count Jnlim, hot lo GB^ 
i'l hero, vulgariy yclept ** The Apostate.' 



7s nmjon, bampson, a oo.'s fublioationb 



SABGENT'S EDITION OF THE 

POETS. 



Th5f Mfiet now embraoes Mfren Tohunei, and if intended to 
eorer the whole field of Britiah poetrj — at leaet to include all the 
poeta that are mad. The Tolnmea already inned are 

CAMPBELL, 1 ToL HOOD, 2 toIs. 

BOGEBS, 1 ToL COLEBIDOE, 2 toIs. 

COLUSBt GBATy GOLDEOHITH, oamprieed in 1 ToL 

It if beliered that no edition has been more fairly oommenced, 
and it will be carried through in the same elegant style. Sargent'a 
Campbell contains mart than fifty poena not embraced in any pre- 
yious edition. Goldsmith's poems are enriched by a new diaoor- 
ery of a tranalatinn from the Italian of Ymi^ entitled *< The 
Game of Chess." The edition of Hood is beUered to be the moat 
complete erer issued. The edition of Coleridge contains all the 
productions in Terse of this celebrated author. Mr. Sargent has 
prepared brief and compendious biographical notices of each of 
thepoetk 

Price, in muslin, $1 per Tolume. 

This edition is also ready bound in rarious elaborate styles. 



XTnifonn with Sargent's edition of the Poets, the pabUshen 
iMvelasaed 

Mitford*s MniTON, in two Tolumes ; 
Moore*8 BYBOIT, in four yolumes ; 

Tnckennan's GOLDSMITH, inoneTolnmfi; 

Todd's EEEtKE WHITE, in one Toluma. 



PHUxiPB. uupsoN, t vara FUBUiunan. 



TDK FOBTICAL ffOESS OF LOKD BTBD!*, 



Edited by Tlioina* Moore, Esq. In (but toIuidm, 13mo. Piin^ 
in miuUo, $t ; half ctO, f9 j roll call; 9I6 ; TndLcy, or m- 
liqus, f 16. 




TUB POETICAL VOUS 01 



rui, 



By L o> Friee, in mtulin, $1 1 

gilt. ^.- 

MX Jem, J 

By Lori Byrvo. In oaayotamb, Umo. Priot^ b) mniliD, $iim 
gilt, l.£0 ; moroooo, f 2. 



gams. 

THE GOSPIBTB V0BK8 OP BflBERT BDR5S, 

CoDtaining M> Foeau, Song*, and Corrapondence. Witli a 
Life of the Poet, and Noticea critical and biognpbiol- By 
Allan Cunningham. With elegant neel illustiationa. In one 
volume, royal octaTO. Price, in mnilin, $i.BO ; in litnoy 
■tyle, (3 ; muni in, gilt, $4 ; morocco, $1.60. 
Bame edition, printed npon One calcndo-ed paper. Ppce, in black 
tnuilin, 9 3 ; in half turkey, or Imlf caUj gilt Or antiqne, fSi 
in ftill turkey, antique or gilt, $6. 

THE POETICAL VOBSS OF ROBERT BURIS, 

ee. In one Toluin^ jSbo> 



ftttini. 

HE POEIICil ffOBiS op PEIlCIl EEIIJ!, 

Complete in one Tolume, 8yo., ^th a Memoir by Mii. I^ H, 
&if!Oumey. A new edition, from the last Ivmdon editiu. with 
all the introdnrtory Notca. Elegantly illnBtrated from onginal 
deiigns. Price, in muslin, $2. SO ; in library style, $3 ; mualio. 



6 niIIlJP8» 8AV80N, M Oa.*8 PUBLRUTIOini. 

telle edHioii, printed upon fine cakndered p«]^ Price, in Uedi 
muslin, (3 ; in half turkey, or half cal( gilt or aatiqiie» $5 } 
in full turkey, antiqae or fflt, (6. 

f IB POITICiL WOSIS 09 IS«. IIIAHS, 

In one Tolume^ 12mo. Price, in muslin, (1 ; g^t, (1.50 ; ■•- 
iooco»$2« 



m POBTICII WOBU OF TI0118 lOOBE, 

CcBtplete in one yolume^ royal octaro. A new edition, from 
ih» last London edition. With a portrait, and other fine illus- 
trations. Price, in muslin, $2.60 ; in library style, $3 ; mus- 
lin, gilt, $4 ; morocco, $4.60. 

Same edition, printed upon fine calendered paper. Price, in Uaek 
muslin, $3 ; in half turkey, or half cali, ^t or antique, $6 ; 
in ftdl turkey, antique or ^t, ffi. 

TIE POETICAL WOEKS OF lOOEE, 

Including Lalla Rookh, Odes of Anacreon, Irish Melodies, Na- 
tional Airs, and Miscellaneous Poems. In one Tolume, 12mo.« 
irith portrait. Price, in muslin, $1 ; gilt, $1.60 ; morocco, $2 

IEI8H IEL0DIS8, 

By Thomas Moore. In one Tolume, 12mo» Price, in muslin^ 
76 cents ; gUt, $1.26 ; morocco, $1.60. 

lALli BOOKH, 

By Thomaa Moore. In one Tolmne, ISmo, Prioe^ in imilii^ 
76 oenta; gilt, $l>2fi; nunoeoo, $l.fO. 



$t3nin0nt ui iUU\tx, 

TIE COIPIETE POETICAL AND DBAIATIC WOBU OF 

BEAUIORT AIID FLETCIEB, 

In two Tolumes, octaro. From the London edition in eleren 
ToluirDS, edited by Rer. Alexander Dyce. With Memoirs, 
oT'^ious Notes, Glossary, and Index, and two splendid stee! 
portraits. 

Hie only American edition of these great dramatists. Price, in 
muslin, $6 ; library style, $6. Bound in costlier styles to order. 



The pT if tlie T^c''"^ edidon from wludi tU« iraA it icptat- 
edit ). 

' Tha edittab txilbn n la carvftlll J and corrvctlj jvlDtod. wll besBj. amM \m 
tTidtDllj been prvpand itltti Eba mod ■^ntQ evn ia athj dvCAiL f^ ■■ ■■* 

■tb« adttlnii of BainHBl — ■ "—-J — (g to tn BoUa OMana. ^ k mi* 
thln( irtileta Iht (molDn kmr luu, wid ot tMBltfal bantam v^ 



old. Wllh creu fr— ii— "< i biu7 

lMutt(i,irftkilui « tvUi 

Sen :sos. 

TEE WORKS OF BEH JOK 

With a Menunr, by 'WiUum Oifford. In one volume, octsroi 

with Portrait. Price, in muflin, J2.S0 j library style, f3 : 

muslin, gilt, $1 ; morocco. $4.50. 
Same edition, printed upon fine calendered paper. Price, in bUrk 

muslin, $3 ; in half nukey, or half call, gilt or antique, ^ : 

in full tuikey, antique oi gilt, f6. 
The principal English Dramatista irill be iwued uniform with ttu 



Cotoptr. 

m WORKS OF WILLIAM COWPEB, 

His Life, Letters, and Poema. (Now completed by the intnv- 
duction of his private correspondence.) Edited by Rev, T, S. 
Qrimshawe, A. M., F. S, A. Iii one volume, octavo, illustrat- 
ed. Price, in muslin, $2.50 ; Ubrary style, $3 ; muslin. gUb 
$4 ; morocco, $1.S0. 
Same edition printed upon Bne calendered paper. Price, inbUd 
rousUn, f3 ; in half turkey, or half cal^ ^t or antiqae, $i 
in full turkey, antique or gilt, $6. 

THE POETICAL WORKS OP COWPER, 

' -volume, 12ioo. Price, in mnilin, )l 



8 niIIlJP8» EAXPBOHf, M OO.'B POBUOATKniB. 

m POETICAL W0RI8 OF JAIES lOITGOlERT, 

With a Memoir, by Rev. RufUs W. Griswold. In one Tolnme^ 
octoTO, ivith Portrait and illustrations. Price, in masHn, $2.60 ; 
library style, $3 ; muaUn, gUt, $4 ; morocco, $4.50. 

mme edition, printed upon fine calendered paper. Price, in black 
muslin, $3 ; in half turkey, or half calf, gilt or antique, $6 i 
in full turkey, antique or g^t, $6. 

O SELECT POETICU W0EI8 OF lORTGOIEET, 

In one Tolume, 12mo., with portrait. Frloe^ in mudin, $1 ; 
gilt, $1.60; moroeook $2. 



TIB COIPLETE V0BK8 OF LETITIA E. LANDON, 

In one Tolume, royal octayo, with Portrait. Price, in muslin, 
$2.60; library style, $3; muslin, gilt, $4; morocco, $4.60* 

Bame edition printed upon fine calendered paper. Price, in black 
muslin, $3 ; in half turkey, or half cau^ gilt or antique, $6 ; 
in full turkey, antique or gilt, $6. 

For 12mo. edition^ see ««HowrrT." 



f HE COIPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF TI0IA8 CAHPBELL, 

With an original Memoir, and Notes, and a splendid Portrait- 
Edited by Epes Sargent, Esq. In one Tolume, 12mo. Price, 
in musUn, $1 ; half caU^ $2.25 ; calf, $4 ; turkey, antique^ 
$4. 

** What a delldoof book Is thin new edition of Ounpbell, with its ample memoir, 
III fttll-Iength poitnite of the poet, and the fiuniliar poema, a« flniahed. and aa 
|*«cknia, and aa eTerlaating aa pearlal Mr. Sargent haa executed hia piona taak 

ileteneaa aa to have linked hia name imperiahablj 



with anch JUial care and oompi 
with that poet.** — Borne JowntaL 

*^ No library can be deemed a librarr withont a oopj of GamnbelL lie ia tha 
flrat poet who onxht to be placed in the handa of the yoong.** — Ihd, 

** We cannot heaitate to pronoonoe it the moat perfooi edition extaBt.*— IW» 
br. 

**i:ii0re cannot weQ be a man attractlTe Toloma In typographical 
"Trantaripi. 

«II wm becooM the IkTorito editioD."— Wbroufar Fattaikm 




HILLIPS, BUDBON, > Oai PCBLICIZTONB 



■Cliui vhltv p«p«r ftnd lu^ tjp« *dd « livtrt to U»a v«i« vhich 

TEG FOETICiL VO&KS H? TSOXIS CiMFBELL, 

In ODc Toluiae, 13mo., irith Fonrait. Ptioe, in n 
1^ }I^0; nuutxod '*" 



na s OF iuuEi iiigeej, 

In one Tolmne, k it, and •& anginal Uemoit. 

Edited by Epct — b'< ifoim in e]eguice of tTpog- 

nphf, &&, with Su lell. Pncev in mulin, ^j 

h^ caU; $3.2i ; fuU » :kej. antiqii^ ^ ^w 



Collins, (Sraji, anlr ©fliismitt. 

POETICAL WOBIS OP COLLINS, GKIT, AKV GOIDSHTH, 

In one yolume, ISmo., with Memoir, Notes, uid PoTtniU 
Edited by Epes Saigent, Esq. Uniform with Campbell anJ 
Bogcn, by the ume editor. Price, in muilin, fl ; half cail, 
(2.26 ; full calf, $i ; turke;, antique, $4. 



foolr. 



TEE POETICAL WOKSS OP THOXAS flODD, 3 VoU. 

^Vith Portrait, and an original Memoii. Edited by EpcB Sar- 
gent, Esq. Uniform with Campbell, Kogeis, and Collina, Oiaj 
and Qoldsmitb, by the same editor. Price, in mualin, fl| 
half calf; f l.fo ! full calf, $S ; tuikey, antique, $8. 



THE P0BI8 OF PERCY BTSSHE SHELLET, 

pint American Edition, with a Uogr^hical and ctitiGal 11^ 
tnoir. In one Tolume, 12tno. Fnce, in muslin, f 1 ; ^1^ 
(l.fiO; morocco,^ 



10 PHIUIPfl^ 8A1CP809, M OO.'S FUBUCAXIOire. 

TIB POETICAL WORKS OF HENRT KltKE WHITE, 

With a Memoir, by Kobext Southey, LL. D., and an Introdiie> 
tion by Key. John TodcL In one Tolume, 12mo. Price, in 
muslin, f 1 ; half cal^ $2.26 ; full calf; $4 ; turkey, antique^ 

POETICAL WOSU, lEHOIR, ANB BEIAINS OF HSNB 

USKE WHITE, 



In one Tolnmeb 12mo. Price, ia mmUn, $1 ; gQt, $150 ; mo- 
ioooo,$2« 



TIB POEIS, PLATS, AND ESSAYS OF OLIVES GOLDSIITI, 

With Portrait, and an Introductory Essay, by H. T. Tucker- 
man, Esq. In one Tolumo, 12mo. Price, in muslin, $1 ; half 
calf, $2.25 ; fiill cal^ $4 ; turkey, antique, $4* 

fiOLDSMITH'S P0EI8 AND PLATS, 

In one Tolume^ 12mo, Pnoe^ in muslin, $1 ; gUt, %IM ; no- 
xocoo, $2. 

Further see ** Colldib, Qkat, and Qoldimitk.' 



»t 



TIB POETICAL W0BI8 OF BET. OEOBfiB CBABBB, 

With a Portrait, and a Memoir by Allan Cunningham. In one 
Tohune^ 12mo. Price, in muslin, $1 ; gilt, $1J^0 ; morocco, $3* 



TIB POETICAL AND DBAIATIC W0BI8 OF SAIUBL TATLOB 

COLEBIDGE, 

In one Tohime^ 12mo. Fiice, in mualin, $1 ; gUt, $1.S0 ; mo- 
loeeok $3. 




miLLIFg, OAUPEON, * 00.1 POHUO1TI0S& 



AoUins, 6ris, Siittii. 

TIE POETICll VOIIS OF COLUIS, GRIT, IID BEimi, 



rolume, 12mo. Price, in mnalin, $1 ; gUt, 91.60 ; 



fOBtlCJl 

With a Biogiaph J b^ 

rOETIUl BEU «/ 



n. 

1 mil DltlDSOI, 

dgwick ; and Biograpb; and 
IT UllEB DITIDSOJ, 
volomB) I2II1Q. Piiock in 



i 



fetiUl, Coot, ^iniigii. 

TUE POETICll mm OF II BI DOWITT, BLIZl COOI, 
IND L. E, IINDON, 

a doth, $1 i gut, 9t.60 i mo- 



TIE POETIML WOEIS OF ILEIUDEt FOPB, 



(Sisiin. 

TIE POEMS OP OiSUJ, 

Tifuulated by James McPherson, Esq. ; with ■ prelinunaij 
Digcourte on the Era of ObsIbii. IlluBtnted with tea fine (d- 
gnTin^ on Bieel. In one volume, 12mo. Price, in mniGn, 
»l! gUt,fl.60; morocco, f 2, 



12 PHnUPS, SAMPSON, ft OO.'S PUBLIOATIORB. 

TIB BBIUTIES OF TIB BBITISI POBTS, 

By Rev. George Croly. In one Toluxne^ 12iiio. Frioe, in 
Im, f 1 ; gilt, $1.60 ; morocco, $2. 



TIB POBTICII W0BK8 OF lABTIR FlBllUIiB TIIPFBB, 

With a fine §teel Portrait. In one Tolmne, 12mo. Fxioei in 
mufllin, ^1 ; gilt, $1.50 ; morocco, (2. 

nOTBBBIAl PHLOSOPIT, BT I. F. TUPPBB, 

In one yolume, 12mo. Price, in mnslin, 88 cents ; gilt, $IM | 
morocco, $1.60. 

FtOTERBIAl FHIIOSOPHT, BT I. F. TUFPBB, 

16mo. Edition. Piioe^ In mnilin, 60 cents ; gilt, 76 cmlM, 



THE POETICAl WORKS OF WILLIAI W0BD8W0BTI, 

In one Tolome, 12mo., with Portrait. Price, in mnaliiit %i | 
gilt, $1.60 ; morocco, $2. 



fOEIS, BT RALPH WAIDO EIERgOI, 

In one Tolume, 12mo. Price, in mnilin, $L 



FHHO, an ETANGEIIAD, 

By KcT. Sylvester Judd, Jr. ; ranthor of " MatgarefO b 
Tolume, 12ino. Price, in mouin, 76 cents. 



ItijSJ. 
DmRinci!, 01 ruiATi toicbs op Til! rcBUc nin, 



fiT LiAQtJ And frA^nnw, A 

com* Itkc llw ^Iwl pn^^Tirv ^f A ^ifiod, Ld tbfAr fydhuw BbJ U^prf^ ^1^ «D «P 

' tUDT of Ihaa (H ncMillT. wd all itf Ouu m n»uiftil Md IwlnM* 

iliUs. ■ 

m ?OET! lira POETJT OP lire AjerejT oiesis, 

By Abrohara Mills, A, M. In one Tolumc, octivo. Price, ii 



H ct OnA Umiiui 



— iVnloK ICnrdir. 



■OHillED, THE iRJBIA^ PROPHET, 



By OeorRe 


H. Milftf. 


EaU., 


, of R: 


.llimc 


II*. A Tragedy, in fiw 


AcU. I'd: 


,o., mueliii 




xiiO. 






Thl> dnunin 


«i.f.l lb. prU; ol 
















Iti< r« 




Ktla* ftaf. 


U iDtorwl dT II 


Mplol 1.-^1 


l.n.t. 


Ined tliiwigbt. 


Ul, th8 «.n.««tk 


nuikfltallT 




I 



THE BORROWER WILL BE CHARGED 
AN OVERDUE FEE IF THIS BOOK IS 
NOT RETURNED TO THE LIBRARY ON 
OR BEFORE THE LAST DATE STAMPED 
BELOW. NON-RECEIPT OF OVERDUE 
NOTICES DOES NOT EXEMPT THE 
BORROWER FROM OVERDUE FEES. 

Harvard College Widener Library